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ABIGAIL ADAMS 
AND HER TIMES 



Books By Laura E. Richards 

Abigail Adams and Her Times 

Pippin 

Elizabeth Fry 

Florence Nightingale 

Mrs. Tree 

Mrs. Tree's Will 

Miss Jimmy 

The Wooing of Calvin Parks 

Journals and Letters of Samuel 

Gridley Howe 
Two Noble Lives 
Captain January 
A Happy Little Time 
When I Was Your Age 
Five Minute Stories 
In My Nursery 
The Golden Windows 
The Silver Crown 
The Joyous Story of Toto 
The Life of Julia Ward Howe 
With Maud Howe Elliott, 
etc., etc. 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
* in 2010 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/abigailadamshertOOrich 




Abigail Adams 
From an original painting by Gilbert Stuart 



ABIGAIL ADAM5 
AND HER TIML5 

. •> 

LAURA E. RICHARDS 

AUTHOR OF "ELIZABETH FRY, THE ANGEL OF THE PRISONS," 

"FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE, THE ANGEL OF THE 

CRIMEA," ETC. 




ILLUSTRATED 



D.rAPPLETON AND COMPANY 

NEW YORK LONDON 

1917 



P/Uu^'-^/^ZSa^ 



.Us 



COPTBIGHT, 1917, BT 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



NOV 20 iSI7 

Printed in tlie United States of America 



0O;,,\d7Sl48 



/ Ji-^o 



^ 



TO 

THE HONORED MEMORY OP 

FRANKLIN BENJAMIN SANBORN 

THE FRIEND OF MY PARENTS AND OP MY CHILDREN; 

TO THREE GENERATIONS A FAITHFUL, 

AFFECTIONATE, AND BELOVED 

COUNSELLOR. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER 

I. Begins at the Beginning 

II. Girlhood and Marriage 

III. The Boston Massacre 

IV. The Boston Tea Party 
V. After Lexington 

VI. Boston Blockade 

VII. In Happy Braintree 

VIII. Independence at Last 

IX. Mr. Adams Abroad . 

X. The Court of St. James 

XI. Vexatious Honors . 

XII. Afternoon and Evening 



PACK 

I 

24 
40 
60 

88 

112 
124 
142 
181 

197 
231 
260 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

Abigail Adams Frontispiece 



FACING 
PAGE 



Abigail Adams . . . . . . . . 36 '^ 

John Adams 188 ' 

South Elevation of the President's House . . . 252 



For much of the local and contemporary color in 
this little book, the author is indebted to the admirable 
works of the late Mrs. Ahce Morse Earle. 



ABIGAIL ADAMS 
AND HER TIMES 

CHAPTER I 
BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 

SEVENTEEN HUNDRED AND FORTY- 
FOUR! George the Second on the throne of 
England, "snuffy old drone from the German hive" ; 
Charles Edward Stuart ("bonnie Prince CharUe") 
making ready for his great coup which, the next 
year, was to cast down said George from the throne 
and set Charles Edward thereupon as "rightful, law- 
ful prince — for wha^ll be king but Charlie?", and 
which ended in Culloden and the final downfall and 
dispersion of the Scottish Stuarts. 

In France, Louis XV., Lord of Misrule, shep- 
herding his people toward the Abyss with what skill 
was in him ; at war with England, at war with Hun- 
gary; Frederick of Prussia alone standing by him. 
In Europe, generally, a seething condition which 
is not our immediate concern. In America, seething 



2 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

also: discontent, indignation, rising higher and 
higher under British imposition (not British either, 
being the work of Britain's German ruler, not of 
her people!), yet quelled for the moment by war 
with France. 

I am not writing a history; far from it. I am 
merely throwing on the screen, in the fashion of to- 
day, a few scenes to make a background for my 
little pen-picture-play. What is really our immedi- 
ate concern is that on November eleventh of this 
same year, 1744, was born to the wife of the Rever- 
end William Smith of Weymouth, Massachusetts, a 
daughter, baptized Abigail. 

Parson Smith was a notable figure of the times ; 
not a great man, but one of character, intelligence 
and cultivation. He married a daughter of Colonel 
John Quincy, so my heroine was a cousin — I cannot 
tell in what precise degree — to Dorothy Q. of po- 
etic-pictorial fame; cousin, too, (her grandmother 
having been a Norton) to half Boston, the culti- 
vated and scholarly half. 

Parson Smith kept a diary, as dry a document as 
I have often read. He had no time to spare, and 
his brief entries are abbreviated down to the finest 
possible point. For example, we read that 

"By my Gd I am as'd and Ev. am as'd at my S 



BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 3 

and do now ys D Sol prom By Thy God never to T. 
to s. ag." 

This is puzzling at first sight; but the practiced 
reader will, after some study, make out that the 
good Parson, writing for himself alone, was really 
saying, 

*'By my God I am assured and Even am assured 
at my Strength, and do now this Day Solemnly 
promise By Thy God never to Tempt to sin again." 

Even this is somewhat cryptic, but we are glad of 
the assurance, the more that we find the poor gen- 
tleman still troubled in spirit a week later. 

''Lord g't me S to res the e. so prej'd to me. 
Lord I am ashamed of it and resolve to s. e. T. by 
thy S." 

Which being interpreted is: *'Lord, grant me 
Strength to resist the evil so prejudicial to me. Lord, 
I am ashamed of it and resolve to shun evil Tempta- 
tion by thy Strength." 

What the temptation was, we may not know. 
Possibly he was inclined to extravagance in certain 
matters of personal dignity and adornment : we read 
of his paying fifteen pounds *'for my wig"; and 
again, "At Boston. Paid Mr. Oliver for a cut 
whigg £10.00." But this is nothing. Parson Smith 
came of **kent folk," and may have had private 



4 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

means beside the salary of eight hundred dollars. 
Do we not read that Samuel Adams' barber's bill 
"for three months, shaving and dressing/' was 
£175, paid by the Colony of Massachusetts? 

Necessary expenses were also heavy. "Dec. 4th, 
1749. Paid Brother Smith for a Barrel of Flower 
£15.11.3." But on the other hand, he sold his horse 
to Mr. Jackson for £200. 

175 1 was an eventful year. On April 23d we 
read, 

"Weymouth Meeting House took fire about half 
an hour after 10 o'clock at night and burnt to the 
ground in abt 2 hours." 

This is all Parson Smith has to say about it, but 
the Boston Post-Boy of April 29th tells us that : 

"Last Tuesday Night the old Meeting-house in 
Weymouth was burnt to the Ground : and three Bar- 
rels of Gunpowder, the Town-Stock, being in the 
Loft, blew up with a great noise. 'Tis uncertain by 
what Means the Fire happen'd." 

Paul Torrey, the town poet, says of it : 

Our powder stock, kept under lock, 

With flints and bullets were 
By dismal blast soon swiftly cast 

Into the open air. 

The poem hints at incendiaries. 



BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING S 

I'm satisfied they do reside 

Somewhere within the town: 
Therefore, no doubt, you'll find them out, 

By searching up and down. 

On trial them we will condemn, 

The sentence we will give: 
Them execute without dispute. 

Not being fit to live. 

This was a heavy blow to minister and congrega- 
tion, in fact to the whole community ; for the meet- 
ing-house was the centre and core of the village life. 

Meeting-house: (Cotton Mather found "no just 
ground in Scripture to apply such a trope as 
'church' to a home for public assembly.") Sabbath, 
or more often Lord's Day: these are the Puritan 
names, which happily we have not yet wholly lost. 
The early meeting-houses were very small; that of 
Haverhill was only twenty-six feet long and twenty 
wide. They were oftenest set on a hilltop, partly as 
a landmark, partly as a lookout in case of prowling 
Indians. The building or "raising" of a meeting- 
house was a great event in the community. Every 
citizen was obliged by law to share in the work or 
the expense. Every man must give a certain amount 
of "nayles." Contributions were levied for lumber, 
for labor of horses and men, and for "Rhum and 
Cacks" to regale the workers. "When the Med ford 



6 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

people built their second meeting-house, they pro- 
vided for the workmen and bystanders, five barrels 
of rum, one barrel of good brown sugar, a box of 
fine lemons, and two loaves of sugar. As a natural 
consequence, two-thirds of the frame fell, and many 
were injured. In Northampton, in 1738, ten gallons 
of rum were bought for £8 'to raise the meeting- 
house' — and the village doctor got '£3 for setting his 
bone Jonathan Strong, and £3 los. for setting Eben- 
ezer Burf s thy' which had somehow through the 
rum or the raising, both gotten broken." ^ Finally it 
was realized that rum and "raising" did not go well 
together, and the workmen had to wait till night for 
their liquor. 

Once up, the meeting-house became the centre of 
village life. On the green outside stood the stocks, 
the whipping-post, the pillory, the cage. We are 
told that the first man to occupy the Boston stocks 
was the carpenter who made them, his charge for 
the lumber used being considered over high. The 
pillory was much frequented by Quakers and other 
non-orthodox persons. Here, too, were horse- 
blocks, and rows of stepping-stones for muddy days. 
The Concord horse-block was a fine one; it was 

^"The Sabbath in Puritan New England." Alice Morse 
Earle. 



BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 7 

erected by the women of the town, each housewife 
giving a pound of butter toward the expense. On 
the walls and door of the meeting-house were nailed 
grinning heads of wolf and bear, killed partly for 
safety, possibly more for the reward: fifteen shill- 
ings for a live wolf, ten for a dead one. We are not 
told what was done with the live wolves. A man in 
Newbury killed seven wolves in one year ; but that is 
nothing. We learn from the history of Roxbury 
that in 1725, in one week in September, twenty bears 
were killed within two miles of Boston! Wolves 
were far more dreaded than bears, and save in this 
one remarkable instance, far more abundant. In 
1723, Ipswich was so beset by wolves that children 
could not go to meeting or to school without a 
grown attendant. 

In the early days, the meeting-house was un- 
painted; paint would have been thought a sinful 
extravagance. The eighteenth century, however, 
brought laxer ideas; brought also 'cheaper paint, and 
the result was a sudden access of gayety. Pom fret, 
Connecticut, painted its meeting-house bright yel- 
low. Instantly Windham, near by, voted that its 
meeting-house be "colored something like the Pom- 
fret meeting-house." Killingly, in turn, gave orders 
that '*the culler ing of the body of our meeting- 



8 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

house should be hke the Pom fret meeting-house, 
and the Roff shal be cullered Read." But Brooklyn 
carried off the palm, with a combination of orange, 
chocolate and white, which must have been startling 
even in 1762, and which would surely have sent 
Cotton Mather into convulsions, had he been alive to 
see. 

Wolves' heads outside the meeting-house; inside, 
the village powder magazine! It was the safest 
place, because there was never any fire in the meet- 
ing-house. Sometimes in the steeple, sometimes un- 
der the roof-beams, there the "powder-closite" was. 
If a thunder-storm came on during service, the con- 
gregation ran out, and waited under the trees till 
it was over. 

Few meeting-houses boasted a bell. The shrill 
toot of a horn, the clear blast of a conch-shell, or 
the roll of a drum, gave the signal for prayer, and 
brought the villagers hurrying from their doors and 
across the green to the meeting-house. In East 
Hadley, the man who "blew the cunk" received 
three dollars a year for his services. The drummer 
was better paid, receiving fourteen shillings of the 
town's money. 

This digression on meeting-houses (drawn from 
Mrs. Alice Morse Earle's delightful "Sabbath in 



BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 9 

Puritan New England") may be pardoned if it gives 
some idea of the disaster so briefly recorded by Par- 
son Smith. Neither parson nor parishioners were 
one whit discouraged, however. On May i6th, it 
is true, they kept a "Fast, to bewail the burning of 
our Meeting House" : but on August 7th we read : 
"Began to raise Weymouth Meeting House, 3 days 
and half about it." And on September ist : "Met 
in our New Meeting House. I p(reache)d." 

What heroic labor, what depth and height of ear- 
nest purpose, what self-denial and sacrifice, these 
eight brief words represent, we may well imagine, 
but Parson Smith gives us no help. The thing was 
done : there was no more to say. 

About this time, we begin to find ominous entries 
in the diary, following one another in quick and 
grievous succession. On the same page that re- 
cords (August 15th) "P'd £15 for my wig," we 
read, "Mr. Benjamin Bicknells Child Died of the 
throat Distemper." Two days later : "Mr. Pettee's 
Daughter Died of the Throat D. aged 5. Paid £4 
for a hat for my Son." 

Every day through the rest of the year they were 
dying, the little children, of what we may suppose 
was diphtheria, or some kindred affection. It was 
a dreadful time. On November 21st we read : 



10 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

"Fast Day at Mr. Bay leys Parish on account of 
the throat Distemper prevailing there. Mr. Colton 
p'd from 2 Jer. 30 *In vain have I smitten yr c(hil- 
dre)n ye rec'd no Correction.' ** 

There had been a similar epidemic in 1735-6. In 
twelve months, nine hundred and eighty-four died 
of the distemper, by far the greater part under ten 
years of age — "the v^oful effects of Original Sin,'* 
remarks a pious writer of the time. 
. All this time little Abigail Smith has been waiting 
patiently in her cradle ; now her turn has come. Re- 
markable woman as she was, perhaps the most strik- 
ing fact in her life was that she lived. Why or how 
any Puritan baby survived its tribulations, one 
hardly knows ; that is, any baby born in winter, and 
late November is winter in New England. Within 
a few days of its birth, the baby was taken to the 
meeting-house to be baptized; the meeting-house, 
unwarmed, as we have seen, from year's end to 
year's end, the wolf Cold waiting to receive the poor 
lamb, with jaws opened wider than those that grin- 
ned on the outer walls of the building. This expedi- 
tion often completed the baby's earthly career. "Of 
Judge Sewall's fourteen children but three survived 
him, a majority dying in infancy; and of fifteen 
children of his friend Cotton Mather, but two sur- 



BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING ii 

vived their father. ^ We are not actually told that 
the christening expedition killed them, but we may 
infer it in many cases. 

The baby slept in a hooded cradle; before going 
to his christening, he must be carried upstairs, with 
silver and gold in his hand, and "scarlet laid on his 
head to keep him from harm.'* If he had fits or 
rickets, he was largely dosed with snail-water. To 
make the '^admirable and most famous Snail-water** 
you must "take a peck of garden Shel Snails, wash 
them well in Small Beer, and put them in an oven 
till they have done making a Noise, then take them 
out and wipe them well from the green froth that is 
upon them, and bruise them shels and all in a Stone 
Mortar, then take a Quart of Earthworms, scower 
them with salt, slit them, and — " ^ but perhaps you 
do not wish to make Snail-water, even the most ad- 
mirable and famous ; and after all, we have no rea- 
son to think that Abigail Smith had rickets, though 
she was a delicate child. She was not thought 
strong enough to go to school ; possibly in any case 
it might not have been thought necessary for her. 
The education of woman was little thought of in 
those days; indeed, she herself says in one of her 

* "Customs and Fashions in Old New England." Alice Morse 
Earle. 

'Ibid. 



12 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

letters that it was fashionable to ridicule female 
learning. In another letter, written the year before 
her death, she says : 

"My early education did not partake of the abun- 
dant opportunities which the present days offer, and 
which even our common country schools now afford. 
/ never was sent to any school. I was always sick. 
Female education, in the best families, went no 
further than writing and arithmetic; in some few 
and rare instances, music and dancing." 

How, then, did Abigail get her education? Eas- 
ily enough ; school was not necessary for her. She 
loved books, and there were plenty of them, not 
only in Parson Smith's study, but in the home of 
her grandfather. Colonel John Quincy, then living 
at Mount Wollaston, not far from Weymouth. A 
great part of her childhood was spent with her 
grandparents, and to her grandmother Quincy, in 
particular, she always felt that she owed a great 
deal. 

"I have not forgotten," she writes to her own 
daughter in 1795, ''the excellent lessons which I re- 
ceived from my grandmother, at a very early period 
of life. I frequently think they made a more dura- 
ble impression upon my mind than those which I re- 
ceived from my own parents. Whether it was ow- 



BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 13 

ing to the happy method of mixing instruction and 
amusement together, or from an inflexible adherence 
to certain principles, the utility of which I could 
not but see and approve when a child, I know not ; 
but maturer years have rendered them oracles of 
wisdom to me. I love and revere her memory; her 
lively, cheerful disposition animated all around her, 
whilst she edified all by her unaffected piety. This 
tribute is due to the memory of those virtues the 
sweet remembrance of which will flourish, though 
she has long slept with her ancestors." 

We can fancy the child sitting by the delightful 
grandmother, imbibing instruction and amusement, 
working the while at her sampler, or setting delicate 
stitches in a shirt for father or grandfather. Girls 
do not make the family shirts nowadays; but I 
know one dear lady who at seven years old was set 
down at her grandmother's side to cut and make a 
shirt for her grandfather, taking every stitch her- 
self. We can see Abigail, too, browsing among 
Colonel Quincy's bookshelves; reading Shakespeare 
and Dryden and Pope and Prior ; the Spectator, too, 
and all the history she could lay her hands on, and 
perhaps the novels of Mr. Richardson, Mr. Fielding, 
Mr. Smollett, three young men who were making a 
great stir in those days. She wrote letters, too, in 



14 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

the fashion of the time; endless letters to girl 
friends in Weymouth or Boston, "hifalutin" in 
language, but full of good sense and good feeling. 
We elders are always sighing, ''Give us, ah ! give us 
but yesterday!" and I cannot help deploring the 
decay of letter-writing. Says Charles Francis 
Adams, in the admirable Memoir with which he pre- 
faces his collection of the letters of John and Abi- 
gail Adams : 

*Terhaps there is no species of exercise, in early 
life, more productive of results useful to the mind, 
than that of writing letters. Over and above the 
mechanical facility of constructing sentences, which 
no teaching will afford so well, the interest with 
which the object is commonly pursued gives an ex- 
traordinary impulse to the intellect. This is promoted 
in a degree proportionate to the scarcity of tempo- 
rary and local subjects for discussion. Where there 
is little gossip, the want of it must be supplied from 
books. The love of literature springs up where the 
weeds of scandal take no root. The young ladies of 
Massachusetts, in the last century, were certainly 
readers, even though only self-taught; and their 
taste was not for the feeble and nerveless senti- 
ment, or the frantic passion, which comes from the 
novels and romances in the circulating library of our 



BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 15 

day, but was derived from the deepest wells of Eng- 
lish literature. The poets and moralists of the 
mother country furnished to these inquiring minds 
their ample stores, and they were used to an extent 
which it is at least doubtful if the more pretending 
and elaborate instruction of the present generation 
would equal." 

However this may be, (and I believe every word 
of it myself!) we must all be thankful that Abby 
Smith formed the letter-writing habit early in life; 
if she had not, we might have lacked one of the most 
vivid pictures of life in Revolutionary times. Her 
girlhood letters (those at least to her girl friends) 
were signed *'Diana," and were addressed to Myra, 
Aspasia, Calliope, Aurelia. Later, in writing to her 
faithful friend, lover and husband, "Portia" was the 
name she chose, a name that suited her well. Here 
is a letter, written in her girlhood, to her friend, 
Mrs. Lincoln: 

'Weymouth, 5 October, 1761. 
*'My Dear Friend^ 

"Does not my friend think me a stupid girl, when 
she has kindly offered to correspond with me, that I 
should be so senseless as not to accept the offer? 
Senseless and stupid I would confess myself, and 



i6 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

that to the greatest degree, if I did not foresee the 
many advantages I shall receive from correspond- 
ing with a lady of your known prudence and under- 
standing. 

"I gratefully accept your offer; although I may 
be charged with vanity in pretending to entertain 
you with my scrawls ; yet I know your generosity is 
such, that, like a kind parent, you will bury in ob- 
livion all my imperfections. I do not aim at enter- 
taining. I write merely for the instruction and edi- 
fication which I shall receive, provided you honor 
me with your correspondence. . . . 

"You bid me tell one of my sparks (I think that 
was the word) to bring me to see you. Why! I be- 
lieve you think they are as plenty as herrings, when, 
alas ! there is as great a scarcity of them as there is 
of justice, honesty, prudence and many other vir- 
tues. IVe no pretensions to one. Wealth, wealth 
is the only thing that is looked after now. *Tis said 
Plato thought, if Virtue would appear to the world, 
all mankind would be enamoured with her, but now 
interest governs the world, and men neglect the 
golden mean. 

"But, to be sober, I should really rejoice to come 
and see you, but if I wait till I get a (what did you 
call *em?) I fear you'll be blind with age. 



BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 17 

"I can say, in the length of this epistle, I've made 
the golden rule mine. Pray, my friend, do not let it 
be long before you write to your ever affectionate 

"A. S.'* 

One feels sure that Abigail was a good child, as 
well as a bright one. She was not an infant 
prodigy, one is glad to think ; parents and grandpar- 
ents were too sensible to play tricks with her mind 
or her soul. One sighs to read of the ''pious and 
ingenious Jane Turell,'* a Puritan child who could 
relate many stories out of the Scriptures before she 
was two years old. "Before she was four years 
old, she could say the greater part of the Assem- 
bly's Catechism, many of the Psalms, read dis- 
tinctly, and make pertinent remarks on many things 
she read. She asked many astonishing questions 
about divine mysteries." It is comforting to know 
that Jane liked green apples ; her father, at the end 
of a pious letter adjures her "as she loves him not 
to eat them," but it shows that after all she was a 
human child. 

We do not know much about the diet of Puritan 
children. Parson Smith was a good farmer, killed 
his own pork and beef, planted apple trees, made 
cider, etc. We may suppose that Abigail had plenty 



i8 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

of good fish and flesh, with a "sallet" now and then, 
and corn, squash, and pumpkins at her desire. "Pom- 
pions," the latter were often called, while ^'squash" 
were variously known as squantersquash, askuta- 
squash, isquoukersquash, all Indian variants of the 
one name which we clip into a monosyllable. Wheat 
did not grow well in the Colonies; oaten and rye 
meal was chiefly used in combination with the uni- 
versal corn. They had hasty pudding, boiled in a 
bag, or fried: "sukquttahhash," and jonne-cake, or 
journey cake, which we have changed by the inser- 
tion of an h till it appears as if "Johnny" had either 
invented or owned it. Parched corn (our pop-corn), 
a favorite food of the Indians, was also highly ap- 
preciated by the Colonists. They were amazed at 
first sight of it : Governor Winthrop explains care- 
fully how, on being parched, the corn turns en- 
tirely inside out, and is white and floury within. 
Sometimes they made it into "No-cake," which is, 
we are told, "Indian corn, parched in the hot ashes, 
the ashes being sifted from it; it is afterwards beat- 
en to powder and put into a long leatherne bag, 
trussed like a knapsacke, out of which they take 
thrice three spoonfuls a day." This was considered 
wonderfully sustaining food; it was mixed, before 
eating, with snow in winter, with water in summer. 



BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 19 

The pumpkins were made into "pyes/' cakes, 
bread, sauce. 

We have pumpkins at morning and pumpkins at noon, 
If it were not for pumpkins we should be undone. 

Potatoes were brought over from England as 
early as 1636, but were not grown till some time 
later. People were still afraid of them : some 
thought that "if a man eat them every day he could 
not live beyond seven years." Some again fan- 
cied the balls were the edible portion, and "did 
not much desire them.'* Nor were the recipes 
for cooking them specially inviting. "The 
Accomplisht Cook" much in use about the 
year 1700 says that potatoes must be "boiled 
and blanched; seasoned with nutmeg and cin- 
namon and pepper; mixed with eringo roots, 
dates, lemon, and whole mace ; covered with butter, 
sugar, and grape verjuice, made with pastry; then 
iced with rosewater and sugar, and yclept a * Se- 
cret Pye.' " * 

Let us hope that Mrs. Smith, a Quincy born, 
knew better than to torture and overwhelm a worthy 
vegetable! We know little of this good lady, but 

* "Customs and Fashions in Old New England." Alice 
Morse Earle. 



20 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

we may suppose that she was a notable housewife, 
since her daughter in later life showed such skill 
in all household arts. We shall see by and by how 
Abigail baked and brewed, spun and wove, clothed 
and fed and cared for her family, often with little 
or no assistance. We may fancy her now, trotting 
about after Mother Smith at Weymouth or Grand- 
mother Quincy at Wollaston, her bright eyes noting 
everything, her quick fingers mastering all the arts 
of preserving, candying, distilling. There was a 
passion for such work among the New England 
women in those days. 

**They made preserves and conserves, marmalets 
and quiddonies, hypocras and household wines, us- 
quebarbs and cordials. They candied fruits and 
made syrups. They preserved everything that would 
bear preserving. I have seen old-time receipts for 
preserving quinces, 'respasse,' pippins, *apri- 
cocks,' plums, 'damsins,' peaches, oranges, lemons, 
artichokes ; green walnuts, elecampane roots, eringo 
roots, grapes, barberries, cherries; receipts for 
syrup of clove gillyflower, wormwood, mint, ani- 
seed, clove, elder, lemons, marigold, citron, hyssop, 
liquorice ; receipts for conserves of roses, violets, bo- 
rage flowers, rosemary, betony, sage, mint, lavender, 
marjoram, and *piony'; rules for candying fruit, 



BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 21 

berries, and flowers, for poppy water, cordial, cherry- 
water, lemon water, thyme water, Angelica water, 
Aqua Mirabilis, Aqua Celestis, clary water, mint 
water." ^ 

Good living was cheap in Abigail's childhood. An 
English traveler, visiting Boston in 1740, writes 
thus : "Their poultry of all sorts are as line as can 
be desired, and they have plenty of fine fish of va- 
rious kinds, all of which are very cheap. Take the 
butchers' meat all together, in every season of the 
year, I believe it is about twopence per pound sterl- 
ing; the best beef and mutton, lamb and veal are 
often sold for sixpence per pound of New England 
money, which is some small matter more than one 
penny sterling. 

"Poultry in their season are exceeding cheap. 
As good a turkey may be bought for about two shil- 
lings sterling as we can buy in London for six or 
seven, and as fine a goose for tenpence as would 
cost three shillings and sixpence or four shillings 
in London. The cheapest of all the several kinds 
of poultry are a sort of wild pigeon, which are 
in season the latter end of June, and so continue 
until September. They are large, and finer than 

" "Customs and Fashions in Old New England." Alice Morse 
Earle. 



22 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

those we have in London, and are sold here for 
eighteenpence a dozen, and sometimes for half of 
that. 

*Tish, too, is exceedingly cheap. They sell a fine 
fresh cod that will weigh a dozen pounds or more, 
just taken out of the sea, for about twopence ster- 
ling. They have smelts, too, which they sell as cheap 
as sprats are in London. Salmon, too, they have in 
great plenty, and these they sell for about a shilling" 
apiece, which will weigh fourteen or fifteen pounds.** 

Shad, strange to say, was profoundly despised. 
In Puritan times they were fed to the hogs; in 1733 
they sold two for a penny, and it was not at all "the 
thing" to eat them — or at least to be seen eating 
them ! A story is told of a family in Hadley, Mas- 
sachusetts, who were about to dine on a shad ; and 
who, hearing a knock at the door, delayed opening it 
till shad and platter had been hustled out of sight. 

"They have venison very plenty. They will sell 
as fine a haunch for half a crown as would cost full 
thirty shillings in England. Bread is much cheaper 
than we have in England, but is not near so good. 
Butter is very fine, and cheaper than ever I bought 
any in London; the best is sold all summer for 
threepence a pound. But as for cheese, it is neither 
cheap nor good." 



BEGINS AT THE BEGINNING 23 

And milk was one penny a quart ! 

But we shall see great changes before we finish 
our story. These were the years of plenty, of the 
fat kine and the full ears of corn. Eat your fill, 
Abigail ! drink your milk while it is a penny a quart ; 
the lean years are coming, when you will pinch and 
scrape and use all your wit and ability to feed and 
clothe your family, and will look back with a sigh 
on these full years of your childhood. 



CHAPTER II 
GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 

WE are told that Abigail Smith in her childhood 
and girlhood was "surrounded by people of 
learning and political sagacity.'* Who were some of 
these people ? At home in Weymouth, there was her 
father, of course, '^remarkably lively and animated 
in all his public performances," as we learn from his 
tombstone. Doubtless his company was stimulating 
to the bright little girl; perhaps he took her with 
him now and then on his trips to Boston or Hing- 
ham, when he went to preach or to buy "Flower" ; 
and ministers and other godly folk often came to the 
parsonage. But probably at her grandparents* 
home she saw even more people of learning and po- 
litical sagacity. The Quincy clan itself made a 
goodly fellowship of cultivated men and women. 
The Hancocks lived near by. John Hancock was a 
boy of seven when Abigail was born. In the year 
1755, when she was eleven, he was a lad of eight- 
een; had graduated the year before from Harvard 

24 



GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 25 

College and had already begun a brilliant mercan- 
tile career. John was handsome and always fond 
of good clothes and gay colors. We have no de- 
scription of his youthful costumes, but we know 
that one day in later life he wore *'a red velvet cap 
within which was one of fine linen, the last turned up 
two or three inches over the lower edge of the vel- 
vet. He also wore a blue damask gown lined with 
' velvet, a white stock, a white satin embroidered 
waistcoat, black satin small-clothes, white silk 
stockings and red morocco slippers." 

Roxbury was not far off, and here lived the War- 
rens, warm friends of the Quincys. Joseph Warren 
was three years younger than Abigail; they may 
have played together in the Quincy gardens. We 
may fancy them, the little maid in bib and apron^ 
mitts and kerchief; the little lad in flapped coat, 
knee-breeches, and waist-coat reaching to his knees ; 
both have buckled shoes. Abby's hair is rolled 
smoothly back over a cushion, Pompadour-fashion,, 
and tied behind with a ribbon; Joseph's worn in 
much the same way, but without the cushion. 

There was another young man named John, who 
may have made calls either of ceremony or of 
friendship at the Quincy mansion. John Adams 
was a year behind John Hancock in college, having 



26 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

graduated in this very year 1755, which I have 
chosen for a survey of my heroine's surroundings. 
He came of good New England stock, his father 
being a substantial farmer, and for many years a 
selectman of the town of Braintree. The Adamses 
were never rich, yet we are told that there had been 
a silver spoon in the family for four generations. 

"In the year 1791, Miss Hannah Adams, the his- 
torian, in writing to John Adams, made reference 
to the 'humble obscurity' of their common origin. 
Her correspondent, in reply, while acknowledging 
the kinship, went on energetically to remark that, 
could he 'ever suppose that family pride were any 
way excusable, [he] should think a descent from a 
line of virtuous, independent New England farmers 
for a hundred and sixty years was a better founda- 
tion for it than a descent through royal or noble 
scoundrels ever since the flood.* " ^ 

When young John was sixteen, his father offered 
him the choice of following the family pursuit of 
farming, and inheriting his share of the family es- 
tate, worth some thirteen hundred pounds, or of 
having a "learned education" for all his inheritance. 
There was no question of John Adams' choice; he 

* "Three Episodes of Massachusetts History." C. F. Adams. 



GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 27 

went to Harvard, as we have seen, and was one of 
the four best scholars in college at the time. 

Shortly after receiving his degree, he became the 
teacher of the grammar school in the town of Wor- 
cester. This must have been a doleful change from 
his college life, with its gay and stimulating com- 
panionship, but he entered on the new work man- 
fully, if not enthusiastically, and prospered in it. 

Why do my thoughts so cluster round this year 
1755? Why not take 1754, when Abigail was ten 
years old, or 1764, when she was twenty? Well, 
I shall have plenty to say about 1764, for that was 
the year — but never mind ! The truth is, 1755 was a 
remarkable year, "a year never to be forgotten in 
America," ^ a year made memorable by the cruel ex- 
pulsion of the French from Nova Scotia, by the 
destruction of General Braddock's army, by the un- 
fortunate attempt of Sir William Johnson against 
Crown Point. These were incidents in the so-called 
French and Indian War, a war in some respects 
more dreadful than any other up to that of the 
present day; a war specially momentous for all 
Americans, since it was to pay the debts then con- 
tracted that Great Britain levied on the American 
Colonies (which had voluntarily spent vast sums 

* "History of Massachusetts." Minot 



28 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

and suffered untold hardships in this war), the taxes 
which brought about the American Revolution. 

So much from the historical point of view; but 
for myself, I must confess that two events, one act- 
ual and terrible, the other conjectural and delightful, 
fixed 1755 at an early age in my mind. 

That was the year when Lisbon town 
Saw the earth open and gulp her down. 

I must have been a very small child when I 
proudly owned the Little Green Geography Book. 
There has been no other geography book like it ; it 
was small, and square, and apple-green ; it had many 
and wonderful pictures. Among these pictures, 
three impressed me most deeply: one of the Mael- 
strom, where a large vessel was going down over 
the edge of a terrifying circle like a round Niagara 
Falls ; another of Peruvian Indians pulling up plants 
by the roots, and collecting quicksilver by the quart, 
it would appear. The third, and by far the most 
thrilling and terrifying, was of the Lisbon Earth- 
quake. The ground was opening in every direction 
in long horrid chasms, and into these chasms were 
falling churches, houses, men, in dreadful confu- 
sion. This picture and that of the Maelstrom had a 
strange fascination for me; I was forever poring 



GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 29 

over them, when I should have been learning about 
the exports of Russia, of which to this day I can 
give little account. 

And then — but every one of my readers knows 
that 

'Twas on the terrible Earthquake Day 

That the Deacon finished the One Hoss Shay. 

So it really is not surprising that 1755 is an annus 
mirahilis to me. 

It is interesting to find that the earthquake came 
over seas to this country, and created considerable 
disturbance, though no serious damage was done. 
November the first was Lisbon's day of doom; it 
was the eighteenth before the internal commotion 
reached Massachusetts. 

Parson Smith alludes to it with characteristic 
brevity: "A great and terrible earthquake hap- 
pened." 

Six words ! We can fancy Mrs. Smith rushing to 
his study, crying out that the chimneys were falling, 
that Neighbor Wibird's great elm was down ; daugh- 
ter Mary bringing the news that the "Chaney Tea- 
pot had fallen from the dresser and was in a hun- 
dred pieces. 

This, I say, we are at liberty to fancy, but Parson 



30 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

Smith will not help us. His next entry is : "Married 
David Bicknell to Jerusha Vinsen. Lent the Dr. 
a pail of hair.'* 

(No; I don't believe it was his wig; it was proba- 
bly cattle hair, to use with mortar; but he does not 
say.) 

John Adams is kinder to us. His diary begins 
thus: 

"We had a very severe shock of an earthquake. 
It continued near four minutes. I then was at my 
father's in Braintree, and awoke out of my sleep in 
the midst of it. The house seemed to rock and reel 
and crack, as if it would fall in ruins about us. 
Chimneys were shattered by it within one mile of 
my father's house.*' 

John Adams' diary is as different from that of 
his future father-in-law as cheese from chalk. No 
abbreviations here ; no dry statistics of birth, death, 
marriage, as if they were of no human interest. He 
pours out his rolling periods with evident enjoy- 
ment. His son, who edits the diary, says : 

"These are loose fragments of journal in the 
hand-writing of John Adams upon scraps of paper 
scarcely legible, from i8 November, 1755, to 20 
November, 1761. They were effusions of mind, 
committed from time to time to paper, probably 



GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 31 

without the design of preserving them; self-exam- 
inations at once severe and stimulative; reflections 
upon others, sometimes, not less severe upon his 
friends; thoughts such as occur to all, some of 
which no other than an unsullied soul would com- 
mit to writing, mingled with conceptions at once 
comprehensive and profound." 

The future President was already deeply inter- 
ested in public affairs ; his ardent patriotism was al- 
ready forecasting the future of his beloved country. 
Shortly before the beginning of the Diary, he 
writes to his friend and kinsman, Nathan Webb : 

"All that part of creation which lies within our 
observation, is liable to change. Even mighty states 
and kingdoms are not exempt. . . . Soon after the 
Reformation, a few people came over into this new 
world for conscience's sake. Perhaps this appar- 
ently trivial incident may transfer the great seat of 
empire into America. It looks likely to me; for if 
we can remove the turbulent Gallicks, our people, 
according to the exactest computation, will in an- 
other century become more numerous than England 
itself. Should this be the case, since we have, I may 
say, all the naval stores of the nation in our hands, it 
will be easy to obtain the mastery of the seas; and 
then the united force of all Europe will not be able 



32 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

to subdue us. The only way to keep us from set- 
ting up for ourselves is to disunite us. Divide et im- 
pera. Keep us distinct colonies, and then, some 
great men in each colony desiring the monarchy of 
the whole, they will destroy each others' influence 
and keep the country in equilibrio. 

"Be not surprised that I am turned politician. 
This whole town is immersed in politics. The in- 
terests of nations, and all the dira of war, make the 
subject of every conversation. I sit and hear, and 
after having been led through a maze of sage ob- 
servations, I sometimes retire, and by laying things 
together, form some reflections pleasing to myself. 
The produce of one of these reveries you have read 
above. . . . 

"Friendship, I take it, is one of the distinguishing 
glories of man; and the creature that is insensible 
of its charms, though he may wear the shape of 
man, is unworthy of the character. In this, perhaps, 
we bear a nearer resemblance to unembodied intelli- 
gences than in anything else. From this I expect 
to receive the chief happiness of my future life; and 
am sorry that fortune has thrown me at such a dis- 
tance from those of my friends who have the high- 
est place in my affections. But thus it is, and I must 
submit. But I hope ere long to return, and live in 



GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 33 

that familiarity that has from earhest infancy sub- 
sisted between yourself and affectionate friend, 

''John Adams.'* 

We shall see about this. Friendship played an 
important part in John Adams' life; but it was not 
to form the chief happiness of his life. 

He did not enjoy teaching; witness another let- 
ter to Nathan Webb. 

"The situation of the town is quite pleasant, and 
the inhabitants, as far as I have had opportunity 
to know their character, are a sociable, generous, 
and hospitable people; but the school is indeed a 
school of affliction. A large number of little runt- 
lings, just capable of lisping ABC, and troubling 
the master. But Dr. Savil tells me, for my comfort, 
*by cultivating and pruning these tender plants in 
the garden of Worcester, I shall make some of them 
plants of renown and cedars of Lebanon.' However 
this be, I am certain that keeping this school any 
length of time, would make a base weed and ignoble 
shrub of me." 

Yet at times he realized the value of his work. 
We read in the diary of 1756: 

"I sometimes in my sprightly moments consider 
myself, in my great chair at school, as some dicta- 



34 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

tor at the head of a commonwealth. In this little 
state I can discover all the great geniuses, all the 
surprising actions and revolutions of the great 
world, in miniature. I have several renowned gen- 
erals but three feet high, and several deep projecting 
politicians in petticoats. I have others catching and 
dissecting flies, accumulating remarkable pebbles, 
cockle-shells, etc., with as ardent curiosity as any 
virtuoso in the Royal Society. Some rattle and thun- 
der out ABC, with as much fire and impetuosity 
as Alexander fought, and very often sit down and 
cry as heartily upon being outspelt, as Caesar did, 
when at Alexander's sepulchre he reflected that the 
Macedonian hero had conquered the world before 
his age. At one table sits Mr. Insipid, foppling and 
fluttering, spinning his whirligig, or playing with 
his fingers, as gaily and wittily as any Frenchified 
cox-comb brandishes his cane or rattles his snuff- 
box. At another, sits the polemical divine, plodding 
and wrangling in his mind about *Adam's fall, in 
which we sinned all,' as his Primer has it. In short, 
my little school, like the great world, is made up of 
kings, politicians, divines, L.D.'s, fops, buffoons, fid- 
dlers, sycophants, fools, coxcombs, chimney-sweep- 
ers, and every other character drawn in history, or 
seen in the world. Is it not, then, the highest pleas- 



GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 35 

ure, my friend, to preside in this little world, to be- 
stow the proper applause upon virtuous and gener- 
ous actions, to blame and punish every vicious and 
contracted trick, to wear out of the tender mind 
everything that is mean and little, and fire the new- 
born soul with a noble ardor, and emulation?" 

Out of school hours, John Adams was studying 
law with all possible diligence. By 1758 he was able 
to give up teaching, and was admitted to practise at 
the Massachusetts bar. His ability was recognized 
at once. A few years later, Governor Barnard, 
wishing to attach this promising young lawyer to 
the royal party, offered him the office of advocate- 
general in the Admiralty Court, which was consid- 
ered a sure step to the highest honors of the bench. 

This was the young man who, in 1764, came 
knocking at the door of Parson Smith of Wey- 
mouth, asking the hand of his daughter Abigail in 
marriage ; to whom she writes on April 20th : 

"I hope you smoke your letters well, before you 
deliver them. Mamma is so fearful lest I should 
catch the distemper, that she hardly ever thinks the 
letters are sufficiently purified. Did you never rob 
a bird's nest ? Do you remember how the poor bird 
would fly round and round, fearful to come nigh, 
yet not know how to leave the place ? Just so they 



36 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

say I hover round Tom, whilst he is smoking my 
letters. 

"But heyday, Mr. What's your name, who taught 
you to threaten so violently? 'A character besides 
that of a critic, in which if I never did, I always 
hereafter shall fear you.' Thou canst not prove a 
villain, impossible, — I, therefore, still insist upon it, 
that I neither do nor can fear thee. For my part, I 
know not that there is any pleasure in being feared ; 
but, if there is, I hope you will be so generous as to 
fear your Diana, that she may at least be made 
sensible of the pleasure. Mr. Ayers will bring you 
this letter and the hag. Do not repine, — it is filled 
with balm. 

''Here is love, respects, good wishes, regards — a 
whole wagon load of them, sent you from all the 
good folks in the neighborhood. 

"Tomorrow makes the fourteenth day. How 
many more are to come? I dare not trust myself 
with the thought. Adieu. Let me hear from you 
by Mr. Ayers, and excuse this very bad writing; if 
you had mended my pen it would have been better. 
Once more. Adieu. Gold and silver have I none, 
but such as I have give I unto thee, — which is the 
affectionate regard of your 

"A. S." 




^ 




Abigail Adams 
From an early portrait 



GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 37 

We know little of the preliminary steps in 
the courtship. The young lawyer, riding his cir- 
cuit, naturally passed through Weymouth, perhaps 
rode directly by the house of Parson Smith. The 
parson doubtless knew the elder Adams, would nat- 
urally offer civility and hospitality to his son ; a man 
of parts himself, he would quickly perceive the in- 
telligence and character of the young lawyer. But 
the Family at Large was mightily disturbed. Law- 
yers were looked askance at in those days; the law 
was a new profession, probably a dangerous, possi- 
bly an iniquitous one. Quincys, Nortons, Tynes, 
all shook their heads emphatically. The whole par- 
ish followed suit. What! Abigail, with her wit, 
beauty, gentle blood and breeding, marry "one of 
the dishonest tribe of lawyers," the son of a small 
country farmer ? Perish the thought ! 

The elder sister Mary had been married the year 
before to Richard Cranch. This was thought a 
wholly suitable match. Parson Smith preached a 
wedding sermon, taking for his text, *'And Mary 
hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken 
away from her," and everybody was pleased. But 
no one, except the contracting parties and the Par- 
son, seems to have approved of Abigail's marrying 
John Adams. This, however, troubled none of the 



38 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

three overmuch. It is true that John had to do his 
courting without assistance from his future "in- 
laws." He must tie his horse to a tree and find his 
Abigail as he could : no one even offered him a 
courting-stick, that "hollow stick about an inch in 
diameter and six or eight feet long, fitted with 
mouth and ear pieces" ^ through which some lovers, 
seated on either side of the great fireplace, had to 
carry on their courtship in the presence of the whole 
family. 

Possibly John Adams might have declined this 
privilege even had it been offered. He has nothing 
to say about his courtship, but thus soberly and 
gravely he writes of his marriage. 

"Here it may be proper to recollect something 
which makes an article of great importance in the 
life of every man. I was of an amorous disposition, 
and, very early, from ten or eleven years of age, 
was very fond of the society of females. I had my 
favorites among the young women, and spent many 
of my evenings in their company; and this dispo- 
sition, although controlled for seven years after my 
entrance into college, returned and engaged me too 
much till I was married. 

• "Customs and Fashions in Old New England." Alice Morse 
Earle. 



GIRLHOOD AND MARRIAGE 39 

**I shall draw no characters, nor give any enumer- 
ation of my youthful flames. It would be considered 
as no compliment to the dead or the living-. This, 
I will say : — they were all modest and virtuous girls, 
and always maintained their character through life. 
No virgin or matron ever had cause to blush at the 
sight of me, or to regret her acquaintance with 
me. . . . 

''I passed the summer of 1764 in attending courts 
and pursuing my studies, with some amusement on 
my little farm, to which I was frequently making 
additions, until the fall, when, on the 25th day of 
October, I was married to Miss Smith, second 
daughter of the Rev. William Smith, minister of 
Weymouth, granddaughter of the Honorable John 
Qulncy, of Braintree, a connection which has been 
the source of all my felicity, although a sense of 
duty, which forced me away from her and my 
children for so many years, produced all the griefs 
of my heart, and all that I esteem real afflictions in 
life." 

So they were married, and the parson conveyed 
a gentle reproof to his family and parishioners by 
preaching a sermon from Luke vii 133 : "For John 
came neither eating bread nor drinking wine, and 
ye say, *He hath a devil/ " 



CHAPTER III 
THE BOSTON MASSACRE 

IT was not a gay wedding, this of Abigail Smith 
and John Adams. They were married quietly 
by good Parson Smith, and then, hand in hand, 
walked across the fields to the little lean-to farm- 
house where they were to find so much happiness 
and to live through such difficult times. It seems un- 
likely that Abigail enjoyed the pretty Colonial 
custom of "coming out Bride," of which we read in 
old diaries and letters. On the first Sunday after the 
wedding it was customary for the bride and groom, 
"whether old or young, gentle or simple," to go to 
church in the very best finery they could muster. 
If they were well-to-do, they kept this up for the 
four Sundays of the honeymoon, sometimes — oh, 
iin-Puritan extravagance ! — in a new gown and suit 
each time ! 

"They usually arrived a bit late, in order to have 
their full meed of attention ; and proceeded slowly, 

arm in arm, down the broad aisle to seats of honor, 

40 



THE BOSTON MASSACRE 41 

in the hushed attention of the entire congregation. 
... At a certain point in the services, usually after 
the singing of the second hymn, the happy couple, in 
agonies of shyness and pride, rose to their feet, and 
turned slowly twice or thrice around before the eyes 
of the whole delighted assembly, thus displaying to 
the full every detail of their attire/' ^ 

This would not have suited either Abigail or John 
Adams. Their tastes were simple, their minds set 
on far other things than clothes. Mrs. Adams was 
always neat and trim in her dress, never extravagant 
or ostentatious. Whether in the little Braintre© 
farmhouse, at the Court of St. James, or as Lady of 
the White House, she was always the same — sim- 
ple, modest, dignified : an example and an inspira- 
tion to all around her. 

The first ten years of her married life were passed 
happily and quietly, partly in Braintree, partly in 
Boston, whither Mr. Adams' increasing law prac- 
tice often called him. Four children were born to 
her, a daughter named for herself, and three sons, 
John Quincy, Charles and Thomas. 

Mrs. Adams kept no diary ; it is to her husband's 
that we naturally turn for records of these ten 

*"Two Centuries of Costume in America." Alice Morse 
Earle. 



42 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

years of happy family life. Alas! he has nothing 
to say about them. He was living his home life; it 
never occurred to him to write about it. His diary 
is concerned with public and professional affairs, 
and with them alone. 

It was not till forced apart by the pressure of pub- 
lic duties and private service, that these two loving 
hearts needed any other expression than the spoken 
word of affection, cheer and sympathy. It is to the 
breaking up of their happy home life that we owe 
the Familiar Letters which are of such priceless 
value to all students of American history, to all 
lovers of high and noble thought. 

But we have not come to the separation yet; we 
must consider these ten silent years, and fill in the 
picture as best we may. 

Here is a sketch, boldly drawn by John Adams 
himself, writing in his old age to a friend, which 
brings the time before us as nothing else can. He is 
describing a scene in the Council Chamber in the 
old Town House, in February, 1761. 

*Tn this chamber, round a great fire, were seated 
five judges, with Lieutenant Governor Hutchinson 
at their head as Chief Justice, all arrayed in their 
new, fresh, rich robes of scarlet English broadcloth ; 
in their large cambric bands and immense judicial 



THE BOSTON MASSACRE 43 

wigs. ... In this chamber were seated at a long 
table all the barristers at law of Boston, and of the 
neighboring county of Middlesex in gowns, bands, 
and tie wigs. They were not seated on ivory chairs, 
but their dress was more solemn and pompous than 
that of the Roman Senate, when the Gauls broke 
in upon them. ... 

"Samuel Quincy and John Adams had been ad- 
mitted barristers at that term. John was the young- 
est ; he should be painted looking like a short, thick 
archbishop of Canterbury, seated at the table with 
a pen in his hand, lost in admiration. 

"But Otis was a flame of fire, with ... a torrent 
of impetuous eloquence, he hurried away everything 
before him. . . . Then and there the child Inde- 
pendence was bom." 

The year 1763 is usually regarded as the begin- 
ning of the American Revolution, since it was in 
that year that George III and his ministers deter- 
mined to raise a revenue from the colonies. These 
matters belong rather to history than to biography, 
but we must briefly note the most striking events of 
this important time. In 1761 were issued the Writs 
of Assistance, which empowered Government of- 
ficials to enter and search the houses of citizens for 
possible contraband goods. In 1765 came the Stamp 



44 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

Act, imposing war-taxes on the Colonies, and 
struck cold on the hearts of the colonists. Franklin, 
seldom stirred out of his philosophic calm, cried 
aloud on hearing of it, "The sun of liberty is set !" 
For John Adams, it was the call to action, and from 
it dates his entrance into the field of politics. He 
was a selectman of Braintree at this time : "he pre- 
pared at home a draft of instructions, and carried 
them with him to the meeting. They were accepted 
by the town without a dissenting voice, and being 
published in Draper's paper, from a copy furnished 
to the printer at his request, were adopted by forty 
other towns of the province, as instructions to their 
respective representatives. Passages from them 
were also adopted in the instructions from the town 
of Boston to their representatives, which were 
drawn up by Samuel Adams." 

Immediately after the Boston town meeting, John 
Adams was asked to appear as counsel for the town 
before the governor and council, "in support of the 
memorial of the town, praying that the courts of 
law in the province" (closed by order of the gover- 
nor, because the stamps had not been delivered) 
might be opened. 

Singularly enough, on the same evening, possibly 
at the same hour, when the people of Boston were 



THE BOSTON MASSACRE 45 

thus showing their trust and confidence in him, Mr. 
Adams was recording in his diary the doubts and 
fears which beset him at the prospect opened before 
him by the Stamp Act and its consequences. 

*The bar seem to me to behave hke a flock of shot 
pigeons ; they seem to be stopped ; the net seems to 
be thrown over them, and they have scarcely cour- 
age left to flounce and to flutter. So sudden an 
interruption in my career is very unfortunate for 
me. I was but just getting into my gears, just get- 
ting under sail, and an embargo is laid upon the ship. 
Thirty years of my life are passed in preparation 
for business; I have had poverty to struggle with, 
envy and jealousy and malice of enemies to encoun- 
ter, no friends, or but few, to assist me ; so that I 
have groped in dark obscurity, till of late, and had 
but just become known and gained a small degree of 
reputation, when this execrable project was set on 
foot for my ruin as well as that of America in gen- 
eral, and of Great Britain." 

On receiving the invitation from Boston next day, 
he marveled. 

*'When I recollect my own reflections and specu- 
lations yesterday, a part of which were committed 
to writing last night, and may be seen under Decem- 
ber 1 8th, and compare them with the proceedings of 



46 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

Boston yesterday, of which the foregoing letter in- 
formed me, I cannot but wonder, and call to mind 
Lord Bacon's observation about secret invisible 
laws of nature, and communications and influences 
between places that are not discovered by sense. 

"But I am now under all obligations of interest 
and ambition, as well as honor, gratitude and duty, 
to exert the utmost of my abilities in this important 
cause. How shall it be conducted?" 

As we all know, the Stamp Act was repealed in 
March, 1776, and we find no more doubts or fears 
in John Adams' diary. Henceforth he belonged to 
his country. So did the diary ! From now on it is 
chiefly a record of public affairs. This was natural, 
but one does wish he had said a little more about his 
home and family. Only now and then do we find 
an entry of this kind : 

"A duller day than last Monday, when the Pro- 
vince was in a rapture for the repeal of the Stamp 
Act, I do not remember to have passed. My wife, 
who had long depended on going to Boston, and my 
little babe, were both very ill, of an whooping cough. 
Myself under obligation to attend the superior court 
at Plymouth the next day, and therefore unable to 
go to Boston, and the town of Braintree insensible 
to the common joy!" 



THE BOSTON MASSACRE 47 

Or we read: "Set off with my wife for Salem; 
stopped half an hour at Boston, crossed the ferry, 
and at three o'clock arrived at HilFs, the tavern in 
Maiden, the sign of the Rising Eagle, at the brook 
near Mr. Emerson's meeting-house, five miles from 
Norwood's: where, namely, at Hill's, we dined. 
Here we fell in company with Kent and Sewall. 
We all oated at Martin's, where we found the new 
sheriff of Essex, Colonel Saltonstall. We all rode 
into town together. Arrived at my dear brother 
Cranch's about eight, and drank tea, and are all very 
happy. Sat and heard the ladies talk about ribbon, 
catgut, and Paris net, ridinghoods, cloth, silk and 
lace. Brother Cranch came home, and a very happy 
evening we had." 

Mr. Cranch was the gentleman in marrying whom 
Mary Smith had *'chosen the good part." The 
brothers-in-law were warm friends and there were 
many pleasant family meetings. 

''April 8th. Mounted my horse, in a very rainy 
morning, for Barnstable, leaving my dear brother 
Cranch and his family at my house. Arrived at Dr. 
Tufts', where I found a fine wild goose on the spit, 
and cranberries stewing in the skillet for dinner. 
Tufts, as soon as he heard that Cranch was at Brain- 
tree, determined to go over and bring him and wife 



48 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

and child over, to dine upon wild goose, and cran- 
berry sauce.*' 

In the spring of 1768, Mr. Adams moved into 
Boston with his wife and children. It was the first 
of several moves, which he thus records in his diary- 
four years later : 

"In April, 1768, I removed to Boston, to the 
white house in Brattle Square. In the spring, 1769, 
I removed to Cole Lane, to Mr. Fayer weather's 
house. In 1770, I removed to another house in 
Brattle Square, where Dr. Cooper now lives; in 
1 77 1, I removed from Boston to Braintree, in the 
month of April, where I have lived to this time. I 
hope I shall not have occasion to remove so often 
for four years and a half to come." 

In 1768, John Adams went on circuit as usual. 
Returning, he found the town full of troops. They 
had landed "about one o'clock at noon, October the 
first, under cover of the ship's cannon, without mo- 
lestation; and, having efiPected it, marched into the 
Common with muskets charged, bayonets fixed, 
drums beating, fifes playing, etc., making, with the 
train of artillery, upward of seven hundred men."^ 

The diary continues: "Through the whole suc- 
ceeding Fall and Winter, a regiment was exercised 

""Gordon's History." 



THE BOSTON MASSACRE 49 

by Major Small, In Brattle Square, directly in front 
of my house. The spirit-stirring drum and the ear- 
piercing fife aroused me and my family early enough 
every morning, and the indignation they excited, 
though somewhat soothed, was not allayed by the 
sweet songs, violins and flutes, of the serenading 
Sons of Liberty under my windows in the evening. 
In this way and a thousand others, I had sufficient 
intimations that the hopes and confidence of the peo- 
ple were placed in me as one of their friends ; and 
I was determined that, so far as depended on me, 
they should not be disappointed ; and that if I could 
render them no positive assistance at least I would 
never take any part against them. 

"My daily reflections for two years, at the sight 
of these soldiers before my door, were serious 
enough. Their very appearance in Boston was a 
strong proof to me, that the determination in Great 
Britain to subjugate us was too deep and invet- 
erate ever to be altered by us; for every thing we 
could do was misrepresented, and nothing we could 
say was credited. On the other hand, I had read 
enough in history to be well aware of the errors to 
which the public opinions of the people were liable in 
times of great heat and danger, as well as of the ex- 
travagances of which the populace of cities were ca- 



50 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

pable when artfully excited to passion, and even 
when justly provoked by oppression. . . . 

"The danger I was in appeared in full view before 
me; and I very deliberately, and, indeed, very 
solemnly, determined at all events to adhere to my 
principles in favor of my native country, which, in- 
deed, was all the country I knew, or which had been 
known by my father, grandfather, or great grand- 
father; but, on the other hand, I never would de- 
ceive the people, nor conceal from them any essential 
truth, nor, especially, make myself subservient to 
any of their crimes, follies, or eccentricities. These 
rules, to the utmost of my capacity and power, I 
have invariably and religiously observed to this 
day/' 

The drummings and fifings were to have more 
serious results than the disturbing of good citizens' 
slumbers. The presence of the troops in Boston 
proved a constant and growing irritation to the citi- 
zens, already exasperated by repeated aggressions. 
The soldiers saw no reason why they should be po- 
lite to the people, the people saw every reason why 
they should be rude to the soldiers. There were con- 
stant wrangles and jangles, growing more and more 
frequent, more and more violent, till at length, on 



THE BOSTON MASSACRE 51 

the night of March 5th, 1770, the seething pot boiled 
over. John Adams writes : 

'The evening of the fifth of March I spent at Mr. 
Henderson Inches' house, at the south end of Bos- 
ton, in company with a club with whom I had been 
associated for several years. About nine o'clock 
we were alarmed with the ringing of bells, and, sup- 
posing it to be the signal of fire, we snatched our 
hats and cloaks, broke up the club, and went out to 
assist in quenching the fire, or aiding our friends 
who might be in danger. In the street we were in- 
formed that the British soldiers had fired on the in- 
habitants, killed some and wounded others, near the 
town-house. A crowd of people was flowing down 
the street to the scene of action. When we arrived, 
we saw nothing but some field-pieces placed before 
the south door of the town-house, and some engi- 
neers and grenadiers drawn up to protect them. 
... Having surveyed round the town house, and 
seeing all quiet, I walked down Boylston Alley into 
Brattle Square, where a company or two of regular 
soldiers were drawn up in front of Dr. Cooper's old 
church, with their muskets all shouldered, and their 
bayonets all fixed. I had no other way to proceed 
but along the whole front in a very narrow space 
which they had left for passengers. Pursuing my 



52 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

way, without taking the least notice of them, or they 
of me, any more than if they had been marble 
statues, I went directly home to Cole Lane." 

What had happened was the Boston Massacre, 
which is vividly described by John Quincy Adams, 
at that time a child of tv/o years. 

It was nine o'clock of a moonlight night, he tells 
us, and there had been a light fall of snow on the icy 
streets. A single sentry was pacing slowly up and 
down before the door of the custom house in King 
Street. From his beat he could hear shouts and 
tumult in the neighboring streets ; Boston did not go 
to bed at curfew these days. Parties of citizens had 
met parties of soldiers, and exchanged uncompli- 
mentary remarks, with shouts and threats on either 
side. Probably the sentry thought little of this : it 
went on every night, more or less. Presently, how- 
ever, round the corner came a barber's boy, and be- 
gan to "slang" the sentry himself. This was another 
matter, and he responded in kind. The dispute ran 
high ; other boys came running, and with them men, 
angry men who had had their fill of British inso- 
lence. The sentry, who for his part had had quite 
enough of "rebel impudence," called for support, 
and out came a corporal and six men (or twelve — 
the accounts vary) under the direction of Captain 



THE BOSTON MASSACRE 53 

Preston, and ranged themselves in a semi-circle in 
front of his post. Instantly, as if by magic, the sol- 
diers were surrounded by ''forty or fifty of the 
lower order of town's people, who had been roving 
the streets armed with billets of wood. . . . What 
begins with jeering and profanity not seldom ends 
in some shape or other of deepest tragedy. Forty or 
fifty of the coarsest people of a small trading town 
and eight hirelings of an ordinary British regiment 
can scarcely be imagined as types of any solid prin- 
ciple or exalted sentiment, and yet at the bottom lay 
the root of bitterness which soon afterwards yielded 
such abundant fruit. This was the first protest 
against the application of force to the settlement of 
a question of right.'' 

We all know the outcome. Seven of the soldiers, 
"either under orders or without orders," fired : five 
men fell mortally wounded: six others were 
wounded less seriously. Each musket was loaded 
with two balls and every ball took effect. "So fatal 
a precision of aim, indicating not a little malignity, 
though it seems never to have attracted notice, is 
one of the most singular cirumstances attending the 
affray. No wonder, then, that peaceable citizens of 
a town, until now inexperienced in events of the 
kind, should, in their horror of the spectacle, have 



54 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

called the act a massacre, and have demanded, in 
tones the most absolute, the instantaneous removal 
of the cause. The armed hand, which had done this 
deed, was that of England. It was not that of a 
friend or guardian. The drops of blood then shed 
in Boston were like the dragon's teeth of ancient 
fable — the seeds, from which sprung up the multi- 
tudes who would recognize no arbitration but the 
deadly one of the battle-field." 

There can have been little sleep that night for 
either Mr. or Mrs. Adams. The latter was in deli- 
cate health. The roll of the drums, the shouts of 
"Town-born, turn out, turn out!" the tramp of sol- 
diers, as company after company was hurried to the 
scene of action, must have been terrifying enough. 
Still the tumult grew, till at length Lieutenant-Gov- 
ernor Hutchinson, with great difficulty making him- 
self heard from the balcony of the town house (now 
known as the Old State House) pledged his word 
to the citizens that justice should be done, and pre- 
vailed upon the commander of the troops to with- 
draw them to their barracks. 

This quieted the tumult, but still a crowd of anx- 
ious citizens — not the rioters, but the sober patriots 
who realized the gravity of the crisis — besieged the 
closed doors behind which Governor and Com- 



THE BOSTON MASSACRE 55 

mander and justices of the peace were in council. 
All night they waited, watchful, silent : at three in 
the morning, it was announced that Captain Preston 
had surrendered himself and was committed to 
prison; then, and not till then, Boston went to bed. 

The rest of the story must be told by John Adams 
himself. 

'The next morning, I think it was, sitting in my 
office, near the steps of the town-house stairs, Mr. 
Forrest came in, who was then called the Irish In- 
fant. I had some acquaintance with him. With 
tears streaming from his eyes, he said, *I am come 
with a very solemn message from a very unfortu- 
nate man, Captain Preston, in prison. He wishes 
for counsel, and can get none. I have waited on 
Mr. Quincy, who says he will engage, if you will 
give him your assistance; without it, he positively 
will not. Even Mr. Auchmuty declines, unless you 
will engage.' I had no hesitation in answering that 
counsel ought to be the very last thing that an ac- 
cused person should want in a free country ; that the 
bar ought, in my opinion, to be independent and im- 
partial, at all times and in every circumstance, and 
that persons whose lives were at stake ought to have 
the counsel they preferred. But he must be sensi- 
ble this would be as important a cause as was ever 



56 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

tried in any court or country of the world ; and that 
every lawyer must hold himself responsible not only 
to his country, but to the highest and most infallible 
of all tribunals, for the part he should act. He 
must, therefore, expect from me no art or address, 
no sophistry or prevarication, in such a cause, nor 
any thing more than fact, evidence, and law would 
justify. 'Captain Preston,' he said, 'requested and 
desired no more; and that he had such an opinion 
from all he had heard from all parties of me, that 
he could cheerfully trust his life with me upon those 
principles.' *And,' said Forrest, 'as God Almighty 
is my judge, I believe him an innocent man.' I re- 
plied, 'That must be ascertained by his trial, and if 
he thinks he cannot have a fair trial of that issue 
without my assistance, without hesitation, he shall 
have it.' 

"Upon this, Forrest offered me a single guinea as 
a retaining fee, and I readily accepted it. From first 
to last I never said a word about fees, in any of those 
cases, and I should have said nothing about them 
here, if calumnies and insinuations had not been 
propagated that I was tempted by great fees and 
enormous sums of money. Before or after the trial, 
Preston sent me ten guineas, and at the trial of the 
soldiers afterwards, eight guineas more, which were 



THE BOSTON MASSACRE 57 

all the fees I ever received or were offered to me, 
and I should not have said anything on the subject 
to my clients if they had never offered me anything. 
This was all the pecuniary reward I ever had for 
fourteen or fifteen days' labor in the most exhaust- 
ing and fatiguing causes I ever tried, for hazarding 
a popularity very general and very hardly earned, 
and for incurring a clamor, popular suspicions and 
prejudices, which are not yet worn out, and never 
will be forgotten as long as the history of this period 
is read. 

"It was immediately bruited abroad that I had en- 
gaged for Preston and the soldiers, and occasioned 
a great clamor, which the friends of the government 
delighted to hear, and slily and secretly fomented 
with all their art.*' 

Their arts were of little avail. While the trial 
(which lasted through a whole term) was still in 
progress, an election came on for a representative 
of Boston, in the town meeting, and the people, 
eager to show their confidence in John Adams, 
elected him by a large majority. 

"I had never been at a Boston town meeting, and 
was not at this, until messengers were sent to me 
to inform me that I was chosen. I went down to 
Faneuil Hall, and in a few words expressive of my 



58 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

sense of the difficulty and danger of the times, of the 
importance of the trust, and of my own insufficiency 
to fulfill the expectations of the people, I accepted 
the choice. Many congratulations were offered, 
which I received civilly, but they gave no joy to me. 
I considered the step as a devotion of my family to 
ruin, and myself to death; for I could scarce per- 
ceive a possibility that I should ever go through the 
thorns and leap all the precipices before me and es- 
cape with my life. 

"At this time I had more business at the bar than 
any man in the Province. My health was feeble. I 
was throwing away as bright prospects as any man 
ever had before him, and I had devoted myself to 
endless labor and anxiety, if not to infamy and to 
death, and that for nothing, except what indeed was 
and ought to be all in all, a sense of duty. In the 
evening, I expressed to Mrs. Adams all my appre- 
hensions. That excellent lady, who has always en- 
couraged me, burst into a flood of tears, but said 
she was very sensible of all the danger to her and to 
our children, as well as to me, but she thought I 
had done as I ought ; she was very willing to share 
in all that was to come, and to place her trust in 
Providence." 
' These apprehensions were unfounded. Thanks 



THE BOSTON MASSACRE 59 

to Adams' eloquence, Preston was acquitted, and 
so great was the public confidence in his advocate 
that not a murmur of dissent was heard, nor was his 
popularity in any degree lessened. 

John Adams seldom condescends to anecdote, but 
he does tell us of "a labored controversy, between 
the House and the Governor, concerning these 
words: *In General Court assembled, and by the 
authority of the same.' I mention this merely on 
account of an anecdote, which the friends of gov- 
ernment circulated w^ith diligence, of Governor 
Shirley, who then lived in retirement at his seat in 
Roxbury. Having read this dispute, in the public 
prints, he asked, * Who has revived those old words ? 
They were expunged during my administration.' 
He was answered. The Boston seat.' 'And who are 
the Boston seat?' 'Mr. Gushing, Mr. Hancock, Mr. 
Samuel Adams, and Mr. John Adams.' 'Mr. Gush- 
ing I knew, and Mr. Hancock I knew,' replied the 
old Governor, 'but where the devil this brace of 
Adamses came from, I know not.' This was archly 
circulated by the ministerialists, to impress the peo- 
ple with the obscurity of the original of the par 
nohile fratrum, as the friends of the country used^ 
to call us, by way of retaliation." 



CHAPTER IV 
THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 

EVEN though it has little to say about his domes- 
tic life, I linger over John Adams' diary. It is 
enthralling reading; most of it belongs rather to his- 
tory than to a slight record like this, yet here and 
there we get pleasant glimpses of the man himself. 

Here he is on circuit, riding through Maine, which 
was then Massachusetts. 

"Began my journey to Falmouth in Casco Bay. 
. . . Dined at Goodhue's, in Salem, where I fell in 
company with a stranger, his name I knew not. . . . 
One year more, he said, would make Americans as 
quiet as lambs; they could not do without Great 
Britain, they could not conquer their luxury, etc. 
Gated my horse, and drank balm tea at Treadwell's 
in Ipswich, where I found Brother Porter, and 
chatted with him half an hour, then rode to Rowley 
and lodged at Captain Jewett's. Jewett 'had rathev 
the House should sit all the year round, than give up 

60 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 6i 

an atom of right or privilege. The Governor can't 
frighten the people with, etc/ . . . 

''Sunday. Took a walk to the pasture to see how 

my horse fared. My little mare had provided for 
herself, by leaping out of a bare pasture into a 
neighboring lot of mowing-ground, and had filled 
herself with grass and water. These are important 
materials for history, no doubt. My biographer will 
scarcely introduce my little mare and her adventures 
in quest of food and water. The children of the 
house have got a young crow, a sight I never saw 
before; — the head and bill are monstrous; the legs 
and claws are long and sprawling. But the young 
crow and the little mare are objects that will not 
interest posterity." 

I do not agree with you, John. I Hke to think of 
you watching the little mare at her stolen breakfast, 
gravely observing the young crow; later, with a 
whimsical smile curling the comers of your firm 
mouth, entering the observations in your diary. 

The climate of Boston did not suit Mr. Adams: 
he longed for his native air of Braintree. 

"The complicated cares of my legal and political 
engagements, the slender diet to which I was obliged 
to confine myself, the air of the town of Boston, 
which was not favorable to me, who had been born 



62 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

and passed almost all my life in the country, but 
especially the constant obligation to speak in public, 
almost every day for many hours, had exhausted my 
health, brought on a pain in my breast, and a com- 
plaint in my lungs, which seriously threatened my 
life, and compelled me to throw off a great part of 
the load of business, both public and private, and 
return to my farm in the country. Early in the 
Spring of 1771, I removed my family to Braintree, 
still holding, however, an office in Boston. The air 
of my native spot, and the fine breezes from the 
sea on one side, and the rocky mountains of pine 
and savin on the other, together with daily rides on 
horseback and the amusements of agriculture, al- 
ways delightful to me, soon restored my health in a 
considerable degree." 

Yet still he wondered why he was not stronger. 
Turning the pages of the diary, we feel no such 
surprise. He simply overworked himself, continu- 
ously and relentlessly. "Now my family is away, 
I feel no inclination at all, no temptation, to be any- 
where but at my office. I am in it by six in the 
morning, I am in it at nine at night, and I spend 
but a small space of time in running down to my 
brother's to breakfast, dinner and tea." 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 63 

"Returned at night ... to Bralntree, — still, 
calm, happy Braintree — at nine o'clock at night." 

This was no way to live, John, for any length of 
time. Small wonder that in November, 1772, he 
once more moved into Boston, having purchased a 
house in Queen Street, "where I hope I shall live 
as long as I have any connection with Boston." 

How Abigail liked this "to-ing and fro-ing," we 
do not know. She is silent, and John has little to 
say about her. Now and then we find an entry like 
this : "My wife says her father never inculcated any 
maxim of behavior upon his children so often as 
this, — never to speak ill of anybody; to say all the 
handsome things she could of persons, but no evil; 
and to make things, rather than persons, the subjects 
of conversation. These rules he always impressed 
upon us, whenever we were going abroad, if it was 
but to spend an afternoon. He was always remark- 
able for observing these rules in his own conversa- 
tion." This gives us a pleasant glimpse of good 
Parson Smith. 

Now and then, too, we read of a drive or 
walk or tea-drinking "with my wife"; but that is 
all. As a rule, John felt no more need of mention- 
ing her, than the air he breathed, or the food that 
nourished him. She was there, and that was enough. 



64 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

By and by, however, Abigail began to speak, or 
rather to write for herself, and from now on her 
letters must be our best guide. 

Be it remembered that, in 1767, by the so-called 
Townshend Acts, a tax had been levied on glass, 
lead, paper, painters* colors, and tea. Three years 
later all these taxes had been repealed, except that 
on tea, which was retained as the sign and token of 
Great Britain's right to tax her colonies when and 
how she pleased. This fact, borne in mind, explains 
the following letter, written by Mrs. Adams on De- 
cember 5th, 1773, to her friend, Mercy Warren, 
wife of General James Warren of Plymouth and 
sister of James Otis : 

"Do not, my worthy friend, tax me with either 
breach of promise or neglect towards you; the only 
reason why I did not write to you immediately upon 
your leaving town was my being seized with a fever, 
which has confined me almost ever since. I have 
not for these many years known so severe a fit of 
sickness. I am now, through the favor of Heaven, 
so far returned as to be able to leave my chamber 
some part of the day. I will not make any other 
apology for my past neglect, being fully sensible 
that I alone have been the sufferer. My pen, which 
I once loved and delighted in, has for a long time 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 65 

been out of credit with me. Could I borrow the 
powers and faculties of my much valued friend, I 
should then hope to use it with advantage to myself 
and delight to others. Incorrect and unpolished as 
it is, I will not suffer a mistaken pride so far to lead 
me astray as to omit the present opportunity of 
improvement. And should I prove a tractable 
scholar, you will not find me tardy. 

"You, madam, are so sincere a lover of your 
country, and so hearty a mourner in all her misfor- 
tunes, that it will greatly aggravate your anxiety to 
hear how much she is now oppressed and insulted. 
To you, who have so thoroughly looked through the 
deeds of men, and developed the dark designs of a 
rapacious soul, no action however base or sordid, 
no measure, however cruel and villanous, will be 
matter of any surprise. 

"The tea, that baneful weed, is arrived. Great 
and, I hope, effectual opposition has been made to 
the landing of it. To the public papers I must refer 
you for particulars. You will there find that the 
proceedings of our citizens have been united, spirited 
and firm. The flame is kindled, and like lightning 
it catches from soul to soul. Great will be the de- 
vastation, if not timely quenched or allayed by some 
more lenient measures. Although the mind is 



(^ ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

shocked at the thought of shedding human blood, 
more especially the blood of our countrymen, and a 
civil war is of all wars the most dreadful, such is 
the present spirit that prevails, that if once they are 
made desperate, many, very many of our heroes will 
spend their lives in the cause, with the speech of 
Cato in their mouths. 

"Such is the present situation of affairs, that I 
tremble when I think what may be the direful conse- 
quences, and in this town must the scene of action 
lie. My heart beats at every whistle I hear, and I 
dare not express half my fears. Eternal reproach 
and ignominy be the portion of all those who have 
been instrumental in bringing these fears upon me. 
There has prevailed a report that tomorrow there 
will be an attempt to land this weed of slavery. I 
will then write further. Till then, my worthy 
friend, adieu." 

During ten days more, Abigail Adams' heart 
was to "beat at every whistle she heard." The pa- 
triots meant to make no mistakes in this important 
matter. They steadfastly refused to receive the tea; 
they used their utmost efforts to induce Governor 
Hutchinson to allow its return. It was not till all 
had been done that man could do, that the final step 
was taken and the tea disposed of. Trevelyan, in 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 67 

his history of the American Revolution, says: 
*'Boston, under circumstances which have been too 
frequently described to admit of their ever again 
being related in detail, gratified the curiosity of an 
energetic patriot who expressed a wish to see 
whether tea could be made with salt water." It is 
the only passage in that admirable work with which 
I have a quarrel. Boston born and bred, I cannot 
be expected to pass over the Tea Party with a brief 
word. I must recall, if only for the sake of that 
beating heart of Abigail Adams', that scene on the 
night of December i6th : the painted figures stealing 
from street and alley and crooked lane to the ren- 
dezvous at the Old South Church; the war-whoop 
ringing out, the rush down Franklin Street to Grif- 
fin's Wharf; the shouts and laughter, under which 
lay such deadly earnestness ; the scuffle on the decks, 
the splash ! splash ! as chest after chest of best Bohea 
and Hyson (to the value of eighteen thousand 
pounds) dropped into the icy water, and went "sail- 
ing so merrily out to sea." How should I not call 
up the scene at least thus briefly, when my own 
great-grandfather was one of the Mohawks? And 
how do we know that little Abigail and John Quincy 
Adams were not singing, in the days of turbulent 
excitement that followed the Tea Party, songs 



68 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

something like the following, though this is of a 
somewhat later date: 

There was an old lady lived over the sea, 

And she was an Island Queen. 
Her daughter Hved off in a new countrie 

With an ocean of water between. 
The old lady's pockets were full of gold, 

But never contented was she, 
So she called on her daughter to pay her a tax 

Of three-pence a pound on her tea, 

Of three-pence a pound on her tea. 

"Now, mother, dear mother," the daughter replied, 

*T shan't do the thing you ax. 
I'm willing to pay a fair price for the tea, 

But never the three-penny tax." 
"You shall," quoth the mother, and reddened with rage, 

"For you're my own daughter, you see. 
And sure 'tis quite proper the daughter should pay 

Her mother a tax on her tea. 

Her m.other a tax on her tea." 

And so the old lady her servant called up 

And packed off a budget of tea. 
And, eager for three-pence a pound, she put in 

Enough for a large familee. 
She ordered her servant to bring home the tax, 

Declaring her child should obey, 
Or old as she was, and almost woman grown, 

She'd half whip her life away. 

She'd half whip her life away. 

The tea was conveyed to the daughter's door, 
All down by the ocean side, 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 69 

And the bouncing girl poured out every pound 

In the dark and boiling tide, 
And then she called out to the Island Queen, 

"Oh ! Mother ! Dear Mother !" quoth she, 
"Your tea you may have when 'tis steeped enough, 

But never a tax from me, 

No, never a tax from me V* * 



The diary has little more to say than Trevelyan. 
We read "Twenty-eight chests of tea arrived yester- 
day, which are to make an infusion in water at seven 
o'clock this evening." And the next day: *'Last 
night twenty-eight chests and a half of tea were 
drowned." 

It is clear that Mr. Adams knew what was to be 
done ; he never knew the names of the doers, stead- 
fastly refusing to be told. "You may depend upon 
it," he says, writing to a friend in 18 19, "that they 
were no ordinary Mohawks. The profound secrecy 
in which they have held their names, and the total 
abstinence from plunder, are proofs of the char- 
acters of the men. I believe they would have tarred 
and feathered anyone of their number who should 
have been detected in pocketing a pound of Hyson." 

The following year, 1774, was a momentous one. 
The destruction of the tea had roused George III 
and his ministers to frenzy ; they bent all their ener- 

* Author unknown. 



70 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

gies to punish the rebellious town of Boston. Edict 
followed edict. The Five Intolerable Acts, they 
were called. This is not the place to name them; 
be it merely said that one of them amounted prac- 
tically to a repeal of the Charter of Massachusetts. 
Early in May General Gage arrived, with full pow- 
ers as Civil Governor of the Colony, and as Com- 
mander-in-Chief for the whole continent, to see that 
the edicts were carried out. First came the Boston 
Port Bill, which closed the harbor of Massachusetts 
and transferred the business of the custom-house to 
Salem. 

On May 26th, 1774, Governor Gage informed the 
General Court that its sessions would be held at 
Salem from June first till further orders. The court 
obeyed, met at Salem, under the leadership of 
Samuel Adams, and proceeded to make arrange- 
ments for a general congress at Philadelphia. Gage, 
hearing of this, sent a messenger post haste to Salem 
to dissolve the meeting. The messenger found the 
door locked, nor was it opened till the congress had 
been determined upon, and the Massachusetts com- 
mittee appointed : James Bowdoin, Samuel Adams, 
John Adams, Thomas Gushing, Robert Treat Paine. 
This was on June 17th, 1774. On the same day, a 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 71 

great meeting was held at Faneuil Hall, with John 
Adams as moderator to protest against the iniqui- 
tous Port Bill. 

Jonathan Sewall, John Adams' bosom friend, 
was a strong Royalist. On hearing of Adams* 
nomination to the projected Congress, he hastened 
to protest against his accepting it, with all the elo- 
quence of which he was master. Every school child 
knows the answer by heart. 

"I know/' said John Adams, ''that Great Britain 
has determined on her system, and that very fact 
determines me on mine. You know I have been 
constant and uniform in opposition to her meas- 
ures ; the die is now cast ; I have passed the Rubi- 
con; to swim or sink, live or die, survive or perish 
with my country, is my unalterable determination." 

Meantime, on June ist, the blockade of Boston 
Harbor was proclaimed, and the ruin and starvation 
of the city zealously undertaken. *'I'll put Boston 
seventeen miles from the sea!" Lord North had 
vowed, and he was better than his word. 

"The law was executed with a rigour that went 
beyond the intentions of its authors. Not a scow 
could be manned by oars to bring an ox, or a sheep, 
or a bundle of hay, from the islands. All water car- 
riage from pier to pier, though but of lumber, or 



72 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

bricks, or kine, was forbidden. The boats that plied 
between Boston and Charlestown could not ferry a 
parcel of goods across Charles River. The fisher- 
men of Marblehead, when they bestowed quintals 
of dried fish on the poor of Boston, were obliged 
to transport their offerings in wagons by a circuit of 
thirty miles." ^ 

The British troops, which had been removed after 
the "Massacre," came back into the town, "sore and 
surly," ^ and encamped on Boston Common. The 
evil days had begun. Small wonder that under such 
conditions as these, John Adams' heart was heavy 
at leaving his home, even on so high an errand as 
that which called him to Philadelphia. 

A month before this, he was writing to his wife 
the first of the famous Familiar Letters. It is dated 
Boston, 12 May, 1774. 

"I am extremely afflicted with the relation your 
father gave me of the return of your disorder. My 
own infirmities, the account of the return of yours, 
and the public news coming all together have put 
my utmost philosophy to the trial. 

"We live, my dear soul, in an age of trial. What 
will be the consequence, I know not. The town of 

2 "History of the United States of America." Bancroft. 
' "The American Revolution." Trevelyan. 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 73 

Boston, for aught I can see, must suffer martyrdom. 
It must expire. And our principal consolation is, 
that it dies in a noble cause — the cause of truth, of 
virtue, of liberty, and of humanity, and that it will 
probably have a glorious resurrection to greater 
v^ealth, splendor and power, than ever. 

"Let me know what is best for us to do. It is ex- 
pensive keeping a family here, and there is no pros- 
pect of any business in my way in this town this 
whole summer. I don't receive a shilling a week. 
We must contrive as many ways as we can to save 
expenses ; for we may have calls to contribute very 
largely, in proportion to our circumstances, to pre- 
vent other very honest worthy people from suffer- 
ing for want, besides our own loss in point of busi- 
ness and profit. 

"Don't imagine from all this that I am in the 
dumps. Far otherwise. I can truly say that I have 
felt more spirits and activity since the arrival of this 
news than I had done before for years. I look upon 
this as the last effort of Lord North's despair, and 
he will as surely be defeated in it, as he was in the 
project of the tea. 

"I am, with great anxiety for your health, 

"Your John Adams." 



74 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

Abigail was probably visiting in the country at 
this time ; but; shortly after, John moved his family 
once more to Braintree, "to prepare myself as well 
as I could for the storm that was coming on." He 
rode his circuit as usual, but for the last time. His 
letters are full of foreboding; full also of courage, 
and resolve to meet whatever fate held in store. 

"Let us, therefore, my dear partner, from that 
affection which we feel for our lovely babes, apply 
ourselves, by every way we can, to the cultivation 
of our farm. Let frugality and industry be our vir- 
tues, if they are not of any others. And above all 
cares of this life, let our ardent anxiety be to mould 
the minds and manners of our children. Let us 
teach them not only to do virtuously, but to excel. 
To excel, they must be taught to be steady, active, 
and industrious." _J 

He is not too anxious to give his usual keen at- 
tention to all he sees and hears. From York he 
writes : 

'This town of York is a curiosity, in several 
views. The people here are great idolaters of the 
memory of their former minister, Mr. Moody. Dr. 
Sayward says, and the rest of them generally think, 
that Mr. Moody was one of the greatest men and 
best saints who have lived since the days of the 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 75 

Apostles. He had an ascendency and authority over 
the people here, as absolute as that of any prince 
in Europe, not excepting his HoHness. 

"This he acquired by a variety of means. In the 
first place, he settled in the place without any con- 
tract. His professed principle v^as that no man 
should be hired to preach the gospel, but that the 
minister should depend upon the charity, generosity, 
and benevolence of the people. This w^as very flat- 
tering to their pride, and left room for their ambi- 
tion to display itself in an emulation among them 
which should be most bountiful and ministerial. 

"In the next place, he acquired the character of 
firm trust in Providence. A number of gentlemen 
came in one day, when they had nothing in the 
house. His wife was very anxious, they say, and 
asked him what they should do. *0h, never fear; 
trust Providence, make a fire in the oven, and you 
will have something.' Very soon a variety of every- 
thing that was good was sent in, and by one o'clock 
they had a splendid dinner. 

"He had also the reputation of enjoying intimate 
communication with the Deity, and of having a 
great interest in the Court of Heaven by his pray- 
ers. 

"He always kept his musket in order, and was 



•](, ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

fond of hunting. On a time, they say, he was out 
of provisions. There came along two wild geese. 
He takes gun and cries, *If it please God I kill both, 
I will send the fattest to the poorest person in this 
parish.' He shot, and killed both; ordered them 
plucked, and then sent the fattest to a poor widow, 
leaving the other, which was a very poor one, at 
home, — to the great mortification of his lady. But 
his maxim was. Perform unto the Lord thy vow. 

"But the best story I have heard yet was his doc- 
trine in a sermon from this text, 'Lord, what shall 
we do?* The doctrine was that when a person or 
people are in a state of perplexity, and know not 
what to do, they ought never to do they know not 
what. This is applicable to the times." 

On August loth, Mr. Adams, with the other com- 
missioners, took coach and started from Boston for 
Philadelphia, escorted by enthusiastic crowds. From 
this time, the Letters tell the story as nothing else 
can. I therefore quote from them with only such 
comment as may be necessary. 

"The particulars of our journey I must reserve, 
to be communicated after my return. It would 
take a volume to describe the whole. It has been 
upon the whole an agreeable jaunt. We have had 
opportunities to see the world and to form acquaint- 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY yj 

ances with the most eminent and famous men in 
the several colonies we have passed through. We 
have been treated with unbounded civility, com- 
plaisance, and respect. We yesterday visited Nas- 
sau Hall College, and were politely treated by the 
scholars, tutors, professors, and president, whom we 
are this day to hear preach. Tomorrow we reach 
the theatre of action. God Almighty grant us wis- 
dom and virtue sufficient for the high trust that is 
devolved upon us. The spirit of the people, where- 
ever we have been, seems to be very favorable. They 
universally consider our cause as their own, and ex- 
press the firmest resolution to abide by the determi- 
nation of the Congress. 

*'I am anxious for our perplexed, distressed prov- 
ince ; hope they will be directed into the right path. 
Let me entreat you, my dear, to make yourself as 
easy and quiet as possible. Resignation to the will 
of Heaven is our only resource in such dangerous 
times. Prudence and caution should be our guides. 
I have the strongest hopes that we shall yet see a 
clearer sky and better times. 

"Remember my tender love to little Abby; tell 
her she must write me a letter and inclose it in the 
next you send. I am charmed with your amuse- 
ment with our little Johnny. Tell him I am glad to 



78 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

hear he is so good a boy as to read to his mamma 
for her entertainment, and to keep himself out of 
the company of rude children. Tell him I hope to 
hear a good account of his accidence and nomencla- 
ture when I return. ... 

/ "The education of our children is never out of 
my mind. Train them to virtue. Habituate them 
to industry, activity, and spirit. Make them con- 
sider every vice as shameful and unmanly. Fire 
them with ambition to be useful. Make them disdain 
to be destitute of any useful or ornamental knowl- 
edge or accomplishment. Fix their ambition upon 
great and solid objects, and their contempt upon 
little, frivolous, and useless ones. It is time, my 
dear, for you to begin to teach them French. Every 
decency, grace, and honesty should be inculcated 
upon them. . . ." 

Abigail Adams to John Adams. 

*T own I feel not a little agitated with the ac- 
counts I have this day received from town; great 
commotions have arisen in consequence of a dis- 
covery of a traitorous plot of Colonel Brattle's, — his 
advice to Gage to break every commissioned officer 
and to seize the province's and town's stock of gun- 
powder. . . . 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 79 

*'I should be glad to know how you found the 
people as you traveled from town to town. I hear 
you met with great hospitality and kindness in Con- 
necticut. Pray let me know how your health is, and 
whether you. have not had exceeding hot weather. 
[_The drought has been very severe. My poor cows 
will certainly prefer a petition to you, setting forth 
their grievances and informing you that they have 
been deprived of their ancient privileges, whereby 
they are become great sufferers, and desiring that 
they may be restored to them. More especially as 
their living, by reason of the drought, is all taken 
from them, and their property which they hold else- 
where is decaying, they humbly pray that you would 
consider them, lest hunger should break through 
stone walls. \ 

"The tenderest regard evermore awaits you from 
your most affectionate 

"Abigail Adams.'' 

"Braintree, 14 September, 1774. 
"Five weeks have passed and not one line have I 
received. I would rather give a dollar for a letter 
by the post, though the consequence should be that 
I ate but one meal a day these three weeks to 
come. . . . 



8o ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

"We are all well here. I think I enjoy better 
health than I have done these two years. I have not 
been to town since I parted with you there. The 
Governor is making all kinds of warlike prepara- 
tions, such as mounting cannon upon Beacon Hill, 
digging intrenchments upon the Neck, placing can- 
non there, encamping a regiment there, throwing up 
breast-works, etc. The people are much alarmed, 
and the selectmen have waited upon him in conse- 
quence of it. The County Congress have also sent 
a committee ; all which proceedings you will have a 
more particular account of than I am able to give 
you, from the public papers. But as to the move- 
ments of this town, perhaps you may not hear them 
from any other person. 

*Tn consequence of the powder being taken from 
Charlestown, a general alarm spread through many 
towns and was caught pretty soon here. The report 
took here on Friday, and on Sunday a soldier was 
seen lurking about the Common, supposed to be a 
spy, but most likely a deserter. However, intelli- 
gence of it was communicated to the other parishes, 
and about eight o'clock Sunday evening there passed 
by here about two hundred men, preceded by a 
horsecart, and marched down to the powder-house, 
from whence they took the powder, and carried it 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 8i 

into the other parish and there secreted it. I opened 
the window upon their return. They passed without 
any noise, not a word among them till they came 
against this house, when some of them, perceiving 
me, asked me if I wanted any powder. I replied, 
no, since it was in so good hands. The reason they 
gave for taking it was that we had so many Tories 
here, they dared not trust us with it. . . . This 
town appears as high as you can well imagine, and, 
if necessary, would soon be in arms. Not a Tory 
but hides his head. The church parson thought they 
were coming after him, and ran up garret; they say 
another jumped out of his window and hid among 
the corn, whilst a third crept under his board fence 
and told his beads." 

"The church parson" was probably the Rev. An- 
thony V/ibird, of whom Mrs. Adams said, when on 
Fast Day, 1775, she drove to Dedham to church, 
that she did so because she "could not bear to hear 
our inanimate old bachelor." A few days after the 
burning of Falmouth she wrote, "I could not join 
today in the petition of our worthy pastor for a 
reconciliation between our no longer parent, but 
tyrant state and these colonies. Let us separate. 
They are not worthy to be our brethren. Let us 
renounce them, and instead of supplications, as for- 



82 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

merly, for their prosperity and happiness, let us be- 
seech the Almighty to blast their counsels and bring 
to naught all their devices." 

"i6 September. 
"I have always thought it of very great impor- 
tance that children should, in the early part of life, 
be unaccustomed to such examples as would tend to 
corrupt the purity of their words and actions, that 
they may chill with horror at the sound of an oath, 
and blush with indignation at an obscene expres- 
sion. These first principles, which grow with their 
growth, and strengthen with their strength, neither 
time nor custom can totally eradicate." 

John Adams to Abigail Adams. 

"Philadelphia, 20 September, 1774. 
"1 am anxious to know how you can live without 
Government. But the experiment must be tried. 
The evils will not be found so dreadful as you ap- 
prehend them. Frugality, my dear, frugality, econ- 
omy, parsimony, must be our refuge. I hope the 
ladies are every day diminishing their ornaments, 
and the gentlemen, too. Let us eat potatoes and 
drink water; let us wear canvas, and undressed 
sheepskins, rather than submit to the unrighteous 
and ignominious domination that is prepared for us. 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 83 

"Tell Brackett I shall make him leave off drink- 
ing rum. We can't let him fight yet. My love to 

my dear ones. 

"Adieu.'' 

A few days after this, Abigail writes, dating her 
letter "Boston Garrison, 24 September, 1774." 

"I have just returned from a visit to my brother, 
with my father, who carried me there the day before 
yesterday, and called here in my return, to see this 
much injured town. I view it with much the same 
sensations that I should the body of a departed 
friend — having only put off its present glory for 
to rise finally to a more happy state. I will not 
despair, but will believe that, our cause being good, 
we shall finally prevail. The maxim Tn time of 
peace prepare for war' (if this may be called a time 
of peace) resounds throughout the country. Next 
Tuesday they are warned at Braintree, all above fif- 
teen and under sixty, to attend with their arms ; and 
to train once a fortnight from that time is a scheme 
which lies much at heart with many. . . . 

"I left all our Httle ones well, and shall return to 
them tonight. I hope to hear from you by the re- 
turn of the bearer of this, and by Revere. I long 
for the day of your return, yet look upon you as 



84 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

much safer where you are — but I know it will not 
do for you. Not one action has been brought to this 
court; no business of any sort in your way. All law 
ceases and the gospel will soon follow, for they are 
supporters of each other. Adieu." 

In another letter she says : "All your family, too 
numerous to name, desire to be remembered. You 
will receive letters from two who are as earnest to 
write to papa as if the welfare of a kingdom de- 
pended upon it." 

These two were little Abby and Johnny, who were 
missing their father sadly. One of John's letters 
reads thus : 

"Sir — I have been trying ever since you went 
away to learn to write you a letter. I shall make 
poor work of it; but, sir, mamma says you will ac- 
cept my endeavors, and that my duty to you may be 
expressed in poor writing as well as good. I hope 
I grow a better boy, and that you will have no 
occasion to be ashamed of me when you return. Mr. 
Thaxter says I learn my books well. He is a very 
good master. I read my books to mamma. We all 
long to see you. I am, sir, your dutiful son, 

"John Quincy Adams." 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 85 

It is pleasant to think of the little seven-year-old 
boy bending over his paper, laboriously composing 
this letter. He must have been a pretty boy, with 
his firm, clear-cut features. His dress was his fath- 
er's in little, flapped waistcoat, knee breeches, 
buckled shoes, coat with cuffs and buttons and all 
the rest of it. I trust Mother Adams was too sen- 
sible to put him in a wig, but I do not know ; most 
sons of well-to-do people wore wigs at that time. 
William Freeman was seven, just Johnny Adams' 
age, when his father paid nine pounds for a wig 
for him. Wigged or not, Johnny Adams knew how 
to write a letter. I wonder how many boys of seven 
could equal it today! 

I cannot resist quoting another letter of Master 
Johnny's, written two years later. 

"Braintree, June 2d, 1777. 
"Dear Sir: 

*1 love to receive letters very well; much better 
than I love to write them. I make but a poor figure 
at composition. My head is much too fickle. My 
thoughts are running after birds* eggs, play and 
trifles, till I get vexed with myself. Mamma has 
a troublesome task to keep me a-studying. I own I 
am ashamed of myself. I have but just entered 
the third volume of RoUin's Ancient History, but 



86 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

designed to have got half through it by this time. 
I am determined this week to be more diligent. . . . 
I have set myself a stint this week, to read the third 
volume half out. If I can but keep my resolution, I 
may again at the end of the week give a better ac- 
count of myself. I wish, sir, you would give me 
in writing, some instructions with regard to the use 
of my time, and advise me how to proportion my 
studies and play, and I will keep them by me, and 
endeavor to follow them. With the present deter- 
mination of growing better, I am, dear sir, your son 

"John Quincy Adams." 

*T. S. If you will be so good as to favor me 
with a blank book, I will transcribe the most remark- 
able passages I meet with in my reading, which will 
serve to fix them upon my mind." 

Johnny's taste in poetry was less mature. Writ- 
ing in later years of these times, he says: "With 
these books (a copy of Shakespeare) in a closet of 
my mother's bedchamber, there was, (in 1778) also 
a small edition in two volumes of Milton's Paradise 
Lost, which I believe I attempted ten times to read, 
and never got through half a book. I might as well 
have attempted to read Homer before I had learned 
the Greek alphabet. I was mortified even to the 



THE BOSTON TEA PARTY 87 

shedding of solitary tears, that I could not even 
conceive what it was that my father and mother ad- 
mired so much in that book, and yet I was ashamed 
to ask them an explanation. I smoked tobacco and 
read Milton at the same time, and from the same 
motive, — to find out what was the recondite charm 
in them which gave my father so much pleasure. 
After making myself four or five times sick with 
smoking, I mastered that accomplishment, and ac- 
quired a habit which, thirty years afterward, I had 
more difficulty in breaking off. But I did not master 
Milton. I was nearly thirty when I first read the 
Paradise Lost with delight and astonishment.'' 



CHAPTER V 
AFTER LEXINGTON 

ON October 28th, Mr. Adams set out on his 
return homeward. The Diary reads : 

"Took our departure, in a very great rain, from 
the happy, the peaceful, the elegant, the hospitable, 
and polite city of Philadelphia. It is not very likely 
that I shall ever see this part of the world again, 
but I shall ever retain a most grateful, pleasing 
sense of the many civilities I have received in it, and 
shall think myself happy to have an opportunity of 
returning them." 

John Adams was to see a good deal more of Phil- 
adelphia; but he spent this winter of 1774-5 at home 
with Portia and the four children, happily, so far as 
liome life went, but beset by anxieties and tasks. 
He was immediately elected into the Provincial Con- 
gress; besides this, he was writing weekly letters, 
signed "Novanglus," for the Boston Gazette, impor- 
tant letters answering those of "Massachusettensis" 
in Draper's paper, which "were conducted with a 

88 



AFTER LEXINGTON 89 

subtlety of art and address wonderfully calculated 
to keep up the spirits of their party, to depress ours, 
to spread intimidation, and to make proselytes 
among those whose principles and judgment give 
way to their fears ; and these compose at least one- 
third of mankind/' Mr. Adams notes soberly that 
"in New England, they [his own letters] had the 
effect of an antidote to the poison of Massachuset- 
tensis, and," he adds, "the battle of Lexington, on 
the 19th of April, changed the instruments of war- 
fare from the pen to the sword.'' 

Abigail, naturally, has nothing to say about Lex- 
ington and Concord; how should she? Her John 
was at home with her, and she kept no diary. But 
John might have given us a word about Paul Revere 
and the rising of the countryside, about the gather- 
ing of the minute-men on that green over which "the 
smoke of the battle still seems to hang" : might have 
mentioned at least that toy pistol of Major Pitcairn's 
— a pretty thing, gold and mother-of-pearl, given 
him by admiring friends — which we are told fired 
the actual first shot of the Revolution, provoking 
that other which was "heard round the world" : he 
might have told — as his son, long years after when 
he was President of the United States, loved to tell — 
how, the day after the battle, the minute-men came. 



90 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

and took Mrs. Adams* pewter spoons to melt them 
into bullets : but no ! 

"A few days after this event," he says, "I rode 
to Cambridge, where I saw General Ward, General 
Heath, General Joseph Warren, and the New Eng- 
land army. There was great confusion and much 
distress. Artillery, arms, clothing were wanting, and 
a sufficient supply of provisions not easily obtained. 
Neither the officers nor men, however, wanted 
spirits or resolution. I rode from thence to Lexing- 
ton, and along the scene of action for many miles, 
and inquired of the inhabitants the circumstances. 
These were not calculated to diminish my ardor in 
the cause ; they, on the contrary, convinced me that 
the die was cast, the Rubicon passed, and, as Lord 
Mansfield expressed it in Parliament, if we did not 
defend ourselves, they would kill us. On my re- 
turn home, I was seized with a fever, attended with 
alarming symptoms; but the time was come to re- 
pair to Philadelphia to Congress, which was to meet 
on the fifth of May. I was determined to go as far 
as I could, and instead of venturing on horseback, 
as I had intended, I got into a sulky, attended by 
a servant on horseback, and proceeded on the jour- 
ney." 

This was an anxious journey for Mr. Adams, 



AFTER LEXINGTON 91 

knowing as he did, that he was leaving his beloved 
family exposed to many and grave dangers. Par- 
liament had, in February, 1775, declared the Colony 
of Massachusetts to be in a state of rebellion, and 
things went from bad to worse in Boston. The fol- 
lowing letter gives the full measure of his anxiety: 

**Mr. Eliot, of Fairfield, is this moment arrived, 
on his way to Boston. He read us a letter from the 
Dr., his father, dated yesterday sennight, being Sun- 
day. The Dr.'s description of the melancholy of 
the town is enough to melt a stone. The trials of 
that unhappy and devoted people are likely to be 
severe indeed. God grant that the furnace of af- 
fliction may refine them. God grant that they may 
be relieved from their present distress. 

**It is arrogance and presumption, in human saga- 
city, to pretend to penetrate far into the designs of 
Heaven. The most perfect reverence and resigna- 
tion becomes us, but I cannot help depending upon 
this, that the present dreadful calamity of that be- 
loved town is intended to bind the colonies to- 
gether in more indissoluble bonds, and to animate 
their exertions at this great crisis in the affairs of 
mankind. It has this effect in a most remarkable 
degree, as far as I have yet seen or heard. It will 



92 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

plead with all America with more irresistible per- 
suasion than angels trumpet-tongued. 

"In a cause which interests the whole globe, at 
a time when my friends and country are in such 
keen distress, I am scarcely ever interrupted in the 
least degree by apprehensions for my personal 
safety. I am often concerned for you and our dear 
babes, surrounded, as you are, by people who are 
too timorous and too much susceptible of alarms. 
Many fears and jealousies and imaginary dangers 
will be suggested to you, but I hope you will not 
be impressed by them. In case of real danger, of 
which you cannot fail to have previous intimations, 
fly to the woods with our children. Give my ten- 
derest love to them, and to all." 

*Tly to the woods with our children"! The 
words tell only too plainly how terrible was the 
danger the writer apprehended. The woods were 
— or at any moment might be — full of prowling 
savages, from whom no mercy could be expected; 
yet John Adams would choose to run this risk 
rather than others that threatened, or seemed to 
threaten, his dear ones. One feels through all the 
years the thrill of his anxiety. 

"For the space of twelve months," says John 
Quincy Adams, "my mother with her infant chil- 



AFTER LEXINGTON 93, 

dren dwelt liable every hour of the day and night 
to be butchered in cold blood or taken into Boston 
as hostages by any foraging or marauding detach- 
ment of men like that actually sent forth on the 
19th of April to capture John Hancock and Sam- 
uel Adams, on their way to attend the Continental 
Congress at Philadelphia. My father was separated 
from his family on his way to attend the same con- 
gress, and then my mother and her children lived 
in unintermitted danger of being consumed with 
them all in a conflagration kindled by a torch in 
the same hands which on the 17th of June lighted 
the fires of Charlestown." 

Abigail, in Braintree, no longer "calm and 
happy," laments over the sufferings of her friends 
and former neighbors. 

"5 May, 1775. 
"The distresses of the inhabitants of Boston are 
beyond the power of language to describe; there 
are but very few who are permitted to come out 
in a day; they delay giving passes, make them wait 
from hour to hour, and their counsels are not two 
hours alike. One day, they shall come out with 
their effects; the next day, merchandise is not ef- 
fects. One day, their household furniture is to 



94 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

come out ; the next, only wearing apparel ; the next, 
Pharaoh's heart is hardened, and he refuseth to 
hearken to them, and will not let the people go. 
May their deliverance be wrought out for them, as 
it was for the children of Israel. I do not mean 
by miracles, but by the interposition of Heaven in 
their favor. They have taken a list of all those 
who they suppose were concerned in watching the 
tea, and every other person whom they call ob- 
noxious, and they and their effects are to suffer de- 
struction. 

"Yours, Portia.'' 

"24 May, 1775. 
"I suppose you have had a formidable account 
of the alarm we had last Sunday morning. When 
I rose, about six o'clock, I was told that the drums 
had been some time beating, and that three alarm 
guns were fired ; that Weymouth bell had been ring- 
ing, and Mr. Weld's was then ringing. I imme- 
diately sent off an express to know the occasion, 
and found the whole town in confusion. Three 
sloops and one cutter had come out and dropped 
anchor just below Great Hill. It was difficult to 
tell their designs ; some supposed they were coming 
to Germantown, others to Weymouth; people. 



AFTER LEXINGTON 95 

women, children, from the iron-works, came flock- 
ing down this way; every woman and child driven 
off from below my father's ; my father's family fly- 
ing. The Dr. is in great distress, as you may well 
imagine, for my aunt had her bed thrown into a 
cart, into which she got herself, and ordered the boy 
to drive her to Bridgewater, which he did. The re- 
port was to them that three hundred British had 
landed, and were upon their march up into town. 
The alarm flew like lightning, and men from all 
parts came flocking down, till two thousand were 
collected. But it seems their expedition was to Grape 
Island for Levett's hay. There it was impossible to 
reach them for want. of boats; but the sight of so 
many people, and the firing at them, prevented their 
getting more than three tons of hay, though they 
had carted much more down to the water. At last a 
lighter was mustered, and a sloop from Hingham, 
which had six port-holes. Our men eagerly jumped 
on board, and put off for the Island. As soon as 
they perceived it, they decamped. Our people land- 
ed upon the island, and in an instant set fire to the 
hay, which, with the barn, was soon consumed, — 
about eighty tons, it is said. We expect soon to be 
in continual alarms, till something decisive takes 
place. . . . Our house has been, upon this alarm. 



96 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

in the same scene of confusion that it was upon the 
former. Soldiers coming in for a lodging, for 
breakfast, for supper, for drink, etc. Sometimes 
refugees from Boston, tired and fatigued, seek an 
asylum for a day, a night, a week. You can hardly 
imagine how we live ; yet,^ 

To the houseless child of want. 

Our doors are open still; 
And though our portions are but scant, 

We give them with good will. 

"My best wishes attend you, both for your health 
and happiness, and that you may be directed into the 
wisest and best measures for our safety and the 
security of our posterity. I wish you were nearer 
to us ; we know not what a day will bring forth, nor 
what distress one hour may throw us into. Hither- 
to, I have been able to maintain a calmness and 
presence of mind, and hope I shall, let the exigency 
of the time be what it will. . . /* 

"Weymouth, 15 June, 1775. 
"I sat down to write to you on Monday, but 
really could not compose myself sufficiently; the 
anxiety I suffered from not hearing one syllable 
from you for more than five weeks, and the new 
distress arising from the arrival of recruits, agi- 



AFTER LEXINGTON 97 

tated me more than I have been since the never- 
to-be-forgotten 14th of April. I have been much 
revived by receiving two letters from you last 
night. . . . 

"We cannot but consider the great distance you 
are from us as a very great misfortune, when our 
critical situation renders it necessary to hear from 
you every week, and will be more and more so, as 
difficulties arise. We now expect our seacoast rav- 
aged; perhaps the very next letter I write will in- 
form you that I am driven away from our yet quiet 
cottage. Necessity will oblige Gage to take some 
desperate steps. We are told for truth that he is 
now eight thousand strong. We live in continual 
expectations of alarms. Courage I know we have 
in abundance; conduct I hope we shall not want; 
but powder, — where shall we get a sufficient supply ? 
I wish we may not fail there. Every town is filled 
with the distressed inhabitants of Boston. Our 
house ^ among others is deserted, and by this time, 
like enough, made use of as a barrack. . . . 

"I have a request to make of you ; something like 
the barrel of sand, I suppose you will think it, but 
really of much more importance to me. It is, that 
you would send out Mr. Bass, and purchase me a 

*I. e., their house in Boston. 



98 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

bundle of pins and put them in your trunk for me. 
The cry for pins is so great that what I used to buy 
for seven shillings and sixpence are now twenty 
shillings, and not to be had for that. A bundle 
contains six thousand, for which I used to give a 
dollar; but if you can procure them for fifty shil- 
lings, or three pounds (ten dollars), pray let me 
have them. 

*T am, with the tenderest regard, 

"Your Portia." 

On June 17th, John Adams writes: 

'T can now inform you that the Congress have 
made choice of the modest and virtuous, the amia- 
ble, generous and brave George Washington, Es- 
quire, to be General of the American army, and 
that he is to repair, as soon as possible, to the camp 
before Boston. This announcement will have a 
great effect in cementing and securing the union of 
these colonies. The continent is really in earnest, 
in defending the country. They have voted ten 
companies of riflemen to be sent from Pennsylvania, 
Maryland and Virginia, to join the army before 
Boston. These are an excellent species of light in- 
fantry. They use a peculiar kind of musket, called 
a rifle. It has circular or — (word effaced in manu- 
script) grooves within the barrel, and carries a ball 



AFTER LEXINGTON 99 

with great exactness to great distances. They are 
the most accurate marksmen in the world. . . . 

"America is a great, unwieldy body. Its pro- 
gress must be slow. It is like a large fleet sailing 
under convoy. The fleetest sailors must wait for 
the dullest and slowest. Like a coach and six, the 
swiftest horses must be slackened, and the slowest 
quickened, that all may keep an even pace. . . .'* 

Mr. Adams little thought that even while he 
wrote, the cannon were roaring on Bunker Hill, and 
that on its slopes, 

In their ragged regimentals 
Stood the old Continentals, 

Yielding not, 
When the grenadiers were lunging, 
And like hail fell the plunging 

Cannon-shot. 

Abigail Adams heard the cannon, and taking her 
seven-year-old Johnny with her, mounted Penn's 
Hill, at the foot of which the house stood. Stand- 
ing there, mother and son saw with terror the smoke 
of burning Charlestown, listened with beating hearts 
to the beating drums and roaring cannon. The 
boy never forgot that hour. Long after he would 
tell of it, and of his mother's deep distress on hear- 
ing of the death of Warren. 



100 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

The news of Bunker Hill reached Philadelphia 
on June 226. : on the 27th, John Adams writes : 

"This moment received two letters from you. 
Courage, my dean We shall be supported in life 
or comforted in death. I rejoice that my country- 
men behaved so bravely, though not so skilfully 
conducted as I could wish. I hope this defeat will 
be remedied by the new modeling of the army. 

"My love everywhere." 

This brief letter crossed one from Abigail, dated 
June 25th. 

"I hear that General Howe said that the battle 
upon the Plains of Abram was but a bauble to this. 
When we consider all the circumstances attending 
this action, we stand astonished that our people were 
not all cut off. They had but one hundred feet in- 
trenched, the number who were engaged did not ex- 
ceed eight hundred, and they with not half ammu- 
nition enough; the reinforcement not able to get 
to them seasonably. The tide was up, and high, so 
that their floating batteries came upon each side of 
the causeway, and their row-galleys kept a con- 
tinual fire. Added to this, the fire from Copp's Hill, 
and from the ships ; the town in flames, all around 
them, and the heat from the flames so intense as 
scarcely to be borne ; the day one of the hottest we 



AFTER LEXINGTON loi 

have had this season, and the wind blowing the 
smoke in their faces, — only figure to yourself all 
these circumstances, and then consider that we do 
not count sixty men lost. My heart overflows at 
the recollection. 

"We live in continual expectation of hostilities. 
Scarcely a day that does not produce some ; but, like 
good Nehemiah, having made our prayer unto God, 
and set the people with their swords, their spears, 
and their bows, we will say unto them, 'Be ye not 
afraid of them; remember the Lord, who is great 
and terrible, and fight for your brethren, your sons, 
and your daughters, your wives and your houses.' 

"I have just received yours of the 17th of June, 
in seven days only; every line from that far coun- 
try is precious. . . . O North, may the groans and 
cries of the injured and oppressed harrow up thy 
souir 

While she wrote, Washington was on the march. 
He reached Watertown on July 2d, and on the 3d, 
standing under the tree which still (1917) marks 
the spot, he took command of the Continental Army. 

On July 5th, she writes : 

"I should have been more particular, but I 
thought you knew everything that passed here. The 
present state of the inhabitants of Boston is that 



102 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

of the most abject slaves, under the most cruel and 
despotic tyrants. Among many instances I could 
mention, let me relate one. Upon the 17th of June, 
printed handbills were posted up at the corners of 
the streets, and upon houses, forbidding any inhabi- 
tants to go upon their houses, or upon any emi- 
nence, on pain of death; the inhabitants dared not 
to look out of their houses, nor to be heard or seen 
to ask a question. Our prisoners were brought over 
to the Long Wharf, and there lay all night, without 
any care of their wounds, or any resting-place but 
the pavements, until the next day, when they ex- 
changed it for the jail, since which we hear they 
are civilly treated. Their living cannot be good, as 
they can have no fresh provisions; their beef, we 
hear, is all gone, and their wounded men die very 
fast, so that they have a report that the bullets were 
poisoned. Fish they cannot have, they have ren- 
dered it so difficult to procure; and the admiral is 
such a villain as to oblige every fishing schooner to 
pay a dollar every time it goes out. The money that 
has been paid for passes is incredible. Some have 
given ten, twenty, thirty, and forty dollars, to get 
out with a small proportion of their things. It is 
reported and believed that they have taken up a 
number of persons and committed them to jail, we 



AFTER LEXINGTON 103 

know not for what in particular. Master Lovell is 
confined in the dungeon; a son of Mr. Edes is in 
jail, and one Wiburt, a ship-carpenter, is now upon 
trial for his life. God alone knows to what length 
these wretches will go, and will, I hope, restrain 
their malice. 

*'I would not have you distressed about me. Dan- 
ger, they say, makes people valiant. Hitherto I have 
been distressed, but not dismayed. I have felt for 
my country and her sons. I have bled with them 
and for them. Not all the havoc and devastation 
they have made has wounded me like the death of 
Warren. We want him in the Senate ; we want him 
in his profession; we want him in the field. We 
mourn for the citizen, the senator, the physician, 
and the warrior. May we have others raised up ia 
his room. . . . 

"I hope we shall not now have famine added to 
war. Grain, grain is what we want here. Meat we 
have enough, and to spare. Pray don't let Bass f or^ 
get my pins. Hardwick has applied to me for Mr. 
Bass to get him a hundred of needles, number six,, 
to carry on his stocking weaving. We shall very 
soon have no coffee, nor sugar, nor pepper, here; 
but whortleberries and milk we are not obliged to 
commerce for. . . . Good night. With thought o£ 



104 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

thee do I close my eyes. Angels guard and pro- 
tect thee; and may a safe return ere long bless thy 

"Portia." 

Dr. Lovell, who was "confined in the dungeon/' 
was the Boston schoolmaster, a worthy man, and a 
stout patriot. The story is told that on the morn- 
ing of the 19th of April, 1775, sitting at his desk 
in the schoolroom, he saw Earl Percy march by 
with his troops, on the way to Lexington. The 
master closed his book. 

"War's begun, school's done !" he said. *'Deponite 
lihros," 

On the 1 6th, Abigail writes again: 

"The appointment of the generals Washington 
and Lee gives universal satisfaction. The people 
have the highest opinion of Lee's abilities, but you 
know the continuation of the popular breath de- 
pends much upon favorable events. I had the pleas- 
ure of seeing both the generals and their aids-de- 
camp soon after their arrival, and of being per- 
sonally made known to them. ... 

"I was struck with General Washington. You 
had prepared me to entertain a favorable opinion 
of him, but I thought the half was not told me. 
Dignity with ease and complacency, the gentleman 



AFTER LEXINGTON 105 

and the soldier, look agreeably blended in him. 
Modesty marks every line and feature of his face. 
These lines of Dryden instantly occurred to me : — 

Mark his majestic fabric ; he's a temple 
Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine; 
His soul's the deity that lodges there, 
Nor is the pile unworthy of the god. 

"General Lee looks like a careless, hardy veteran, 
and by his appearance brought to my mind his name- 
sake, Charles the Twelfth, of Sweden. The ele- 
gance of his pen far exceeds that of his person. . . . 

"As to intelligence from Boston, it is but very 
seldom we are able to collect anything that may be 
relied on; and to report the vague flying rumors 
would be endless. I heard yesterday, by one Mr. 
Roulstone, a goldsmith, who got out in a fishing 
schooner, that their distress increased upon them 
fast. Their beef is all spent; their malt and cider 
all gone. All the fresh provisions they can procure 
they are obliged to give to the sick and wounded. 
Thirteen of our men who were in jail, and were 
wounded at the battle of Charlestown, were dead. 
No man dared now to be seen talking to his friend 
in the street. They were obliged to be within, 
every evening, at ten o'clock, according to martial 



io6 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

law; nor could any inhabitants walk any street in 
town after that time, without a pass from 
Gage. . . . 

"Every article in the West India way is very 
scarce and dear. In six weeks we shall not be able 
to purchase any article of the kind. I wish you 
would let Bass get me one pound of pepper and 
two yards of black calamanco for shoes. I cannot 
wear leather, if I go barefoot. Bass may make a 
fine profit if he lays in a stock for himself. You 
can hardly imagine how much we want many com- 
mon small articles which are not manufactured 
amongst ourselves ; but we will have them in time ; 
not one pin to be purchased for love or money. I 
wish you would convey me a thousand by any 
friend traveling this way. It is very provoking 
to have such a plenty so near us, but, Tantalus-like, 
not to be able to touch. I should have been glad 
to have laid in a small stock of the West India ar- 
ticles, but I cannot get one copper; no person thinks 
of paying anything, and I do not choose to run in 
debt. I endeavor to live in the most frugal manner 
possible, but I am many times distressed." 

"This is the 25th of July. Gage has not made 
any attempt to march out since the battle of Charles- 
town. Our army is restless, and wish to be doing 



AFTER LEXINGTON 107 

something to rid themselves and the land of the 
vermin and locusts which infest it. Since I wrote 
you last, the companies stationed upon the coast, 
both in this town, Weymouth, and Hingham, were 
ordered to Nantasket, to reap and bring off the grain, 
which they accomplished, all except a field or two 
which was not ripe; and having whaleboats, they 
undertook to go to the Lighthouse and set fire to it, 
which they effected in open day, and in fair sight of 
several men-of-war. Upon their return, came down 
upon them eight barges, one cutter, and one schoon- 
er, all in battle-array, and poured whole broadsides 
upon them ; but our men all reached the shore, and 
not one life lost, two only slightly wounded in their 
legs. They marched up a hill, and drew into order 
in hopes the marines would land; but they chose 
rather to return without a land engagement, though 
'tis thought they will burn the town down as soon 
as our forces leave it. I had this account from 
Captain Vinton, who with his company, were there. 
These little skirmishes seem trifling, but they serve 
to inure our men, and harden them to danger. I 
hear the rebels are very wroth at the destruction 
of the Lighthouse. 

"There has been an offer from Gage to send the 
poor of Boston to Salem, by water, but not com- 



io8 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

plied with on our part; they returned for answer, 
they would receive them upon the lines. Dr. Tufts 
saw a letter from Deacon Newall, in which he men- 
tions the death of John Cotton; he says it is very 
sickly in town. Every fishing vessel is now obliged 
to enter and clear out, as though she was going 
a foreign voyage. No inhabitant is suffered to par- 
take, but obliged to wait till the army is supplied, 
and then, if one [fish] remains, they are allowed 
to purchase it. An order has been given out in 
town that no person shall be seen to wipe his face 
with a white handkerchief. The reason I hear is, 
that it is a signal of mutiny. General Burgoyne 
lives in Mr. Sam Quincy's house. A lady, who lived 
opposite, says she saw raw meat cut and hacked 
upon her mahogany tables, and her superb damask 
curtains and cushions exposed to the rain, as if they 
were of no value. . . /' 

Up to this time, Mrs. Adams had only the sor- 
rows of her neighbors to chronicle, but now her 
own turn was come. A violent epidemic of dysen- 
tery broke out in the surrounding country, and 
*'calm, happy Braintree" was calm no longer. One 
after another of the family sickened; one of the 
servants first, Isaac, ("there was no resting-place 
in the house, for his terrible groans!") Mrs. Adams 



AFTER LEXINGTON 109 

herself was the next, and she was sorely tempted 
to send for her husband, who was then but a few 
days on his journey back to Philadelphia. 

"I suffered greatly between my inclination to have 
you return, and my fear of sending lest you should 
be a partaker of the common calamity." . . . ''Our 
little Tommy was the next, and he lies very ill now. 
. . . Our house is a hospital in every part; and 
what with my own weakness and distress of mind 
for my family, I have been unhappy enough. And 
such is the distress of the neighborhood that I can 
scarely find a well person to assist in looking after 
the sick. ... So sickly and so mortal a time the 
oldest man does not remember. . . . As to poli- 
tics, I know nothing about them. The distresses 
of my own family are so great that I have not 
thought of them. ..." 

One of the maids died; the others recovered, 
though Tommy, who had been a "hearty, hale, corn- 
fed boy," was now "entirely stripped of the hardy, 
robust countenance, as well as of all the flesh he 
had, save what remains for to keep his bones to- 
gether." In October, Abigail's mother, after visit- 
ing a soldier home from the army on sick leave, 
was stricken by the pestilence and died. This was 
a heavy blow, and the daughter's heart cried out 



no ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

to her absent mate. "Have pity on me, O thou my 
teloved, for the hand of God presseth me sore.'^ 

The letter which begins thus would move any 
heart even at this distance of time : to John Adams, 
it brought deep distress. The loving husband and 
father would fain take horse and ride post haste 
to Braintree; the steadfast patriot must remain at 
his post. All he could do was to write her fre- 
quently and as cheerfully as might be. 

"I will never,*' he assures her on December third, 
"come here again without you, if I can persuade 
you to come with me. Whom God has joined to- 
gether ought not to be put asunder so long, with 
their own consent. We will bring master Johnny 
with us ; you and he shall have the small-pox here, 
and we will be as happy as Mr. Hancock and his 
lady. Thank Abby and John for their letters, and 
kiss Charles and Tom for me. John writes like a 
hero, glowing with ardor for his country and burn- 
ing with indignation against her enemies. ..." 

Now and then, but rarely, he tried to amuse her 
with a story. 

"A few days ago, in company with Dr. Zubly, 
somebody said there was nobody on our side but 
the Almighty. The Doctor, who is a native of 
Switzerland, and speaks but broken English, quickly 



AFTER LEXINGTON in 

replied, 'Dat is enough ! Dat is enough !' And turn- 
ing to me says he, 'It puts me in mind of a fellow 
who once said, 'The Catholics have on their side 
the Pope, and the King of France, and the King of 
Spain, and the King of Sardinia, and the King of 
Poland, and the Emperor of Germany, etc., etc., 
etc. : but as to these poor devils the Protestants, they 
have nothing on their side but God Almighty." ' " 



CHAPTER VI 
BOSTON BLOCKADE 

WHILE John and Abigail were writing their 
letters in Philadelphia and Braintree, Bos- 
ton town was undergoing a winter of discontent 
indeed. Ever since Bunker Hill and the burning of 
Charlestown, the British troops had occupied the 
town, while Washington and his army lay encamped 
in Cambridge and on Dorchester Heights, west of 
the city. In October, the British command was 
transferred from General Gage to General Howe, 
who proved a more energetic commander. He 
burned Falmouth (now Portland), and threatened 
many other places. After the burning of Charles- 
town, Franklin wrote : 

"Britain must certainly be distracted. No trades- 
man out of Bedlam ever thought of increasing the 
number of his customers by knocking them on the 
head, or of enabling them to pay their debts by 
burning their houses. It has been with difficulty 
that we have carried another humble Petition to the 

112 



BOSTON BLOCKADE 113 

Crown, to give Britain one more chance of recov- 
ering the friendship of the colonies : which, however, 
she has not sense enough to embrace; and so she 
has lost them for ever." 

The rival armies watched each other closely, 
meantime passing the time as best they might. 
Washington, with his newly levied troops, kept 
them busy enough, marching and counter-marching, 
drilling and practising; besides, the country was 
open to them on all sides, and they could come and 
go as occasion required. The British troops, how- 
ever, found time hang heavy on their hands. Shut 
up in narrow quarters amid a bitterly hostile popu- 
lation, often short of provisions and ruled by an 
iron hand, they were having a forlorn time of it. 
One feels real compassion for the ancestor of "Tom- 
my Atkins" : he was probably a very good fellow 
at heart, as Tommy (to whom all honor!) is to- 
day. He had no personal quarrel with the people 
of Boston; he did not care whether they were bond 
or free, so he got his rations, his pint and his pipe. 
And here he was surrounded by black looks and 
scowling faces, and could not so much as answer 
a gibe or — possibly — prod an insulting urchin with 
his bayonet, without bringing the whole hornet's 
nest of patriots about his ears. On the other hand, 



114 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

if he were in any way remiss in his duties, he was 
flogged with a brutality worthy of the Dark Ages, 
A forlorn winter for Tommy, this of 1775-6. Small 
wonder that he was ready to lend his hand to any 
mischief that promised relief from the monotony 
of daily life. 

Obeying orders, the soldiers tore down many 
fine old buildings for firewood, among them that of 
John Winthrop; cut down Liberty Tree,^ which 
yielded fourteen cords of fine wood; made havoc 
generally. The grenadiers were quartered in West 
Church ; two regiments of infantry in Brattle Street 
Church, whose pillars saved it from sharing the fate 
of the Old South, which was, as we know, used 
as a riding school by the dragoons. 

The British officers fared better than their men. 
They were quartered in the homes of absent pa- 
triots. General Clinton was in the Hancock House, 
Earl Percy in that of Gardner Greene, Burgoyne 
in the Bowdoin mansion ; while Gage and Howe suc- 
cessively inhabited the stately Province House. 

The patriots, those who could afford to do so, 
had mostly left. Those who remained were of the 
humbler class, with a sprinkling of physicians, law- 
yers, and clergymen, who stood by their posts. 

*It stood at the corner of Essex and Washington Streets. 



BOSTON BLOCKADE 115 

Among the clergymen was one with whose name 
I have a pleasant association : the Reverend Mather 
Byles, pastor of Hollis Street Church. This gentle- 
man was a merry, as well as a devout person ; full of 
quips and cranks, and not always lacking in wanton 
wiles. John Adams quotes him as saying, when first 
the British troops occupied Boston, that "our griev- 
ances would now be red-dressed!" But my own 
thought of Mr. Byles recalls a story often told by 
my mother, which she may have heard in childhood 
from her grandfather, the old Revolutionary Colo- 
nel. It tells how one night the Reverend Mather, 
returning home very late, passed by the house of 
a man whom he greatly disliked. A sudden thought 
struck him ; he went up the steps and began to beat 
and bang on the door and halloo at the top of his 
lungs. After some delay, the night-capped head 
of his neighbor was thrust out of the window, de- 
manding what was to do at this time o' night. 

"Have you lost a penknife?" asked Mr. Byles. 

"No ! Have you found one ?" 

"No, but I feel as if I should any minute!" 

Exeunt both parties, one chuckling, the other 
swearing. 

The Tories, rich, prosperous, and loyal to King 
George, were ready enough to help the officers in 



ii6 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

making merry. There were sleighing parties, riding 
parties, parties of every description: no doubt the 
Tory maidens found the winter a very gay one. 
Faneuil Hall was turned into a theatre, and Gen- 
eral Burgoyne wrote plays for it. A performance 
of "Zara" was a brilliant success. After another 
performance, a farce called ''Boston Blockade," a 
"Vaudevil" was to be sung by the characters, of 
which the following is a part : 

Ye Critics, who wait for an End of the Scene, 

T' accept it with Praise or dismiss it with Spleen; 

Your Candor we ask and demand your Applause, 

If not for our Action, at least for our Cause. "'■^. 

'Tis our Aim by Amusement thus chearful and gay, | 

To wile a few Hours of Winter away: * 

While we rest on our arms, call the Arts to our Aid, 

And be merry in spite of the BOSTON BLOCKADE. 

Ye tarbarrel'd Lawgivers, yankified Prigs, 

Who are Tyrants in Custom, yet call yourselves Whigs ; 

In return for the Favors you've lavished on me, 

May I see you all hanged upon Liberty Tree. 

Meantime take Example ; decease from Attack ; 

You're as weak under Arms as I'm weak in my Back, 

In War and in Love we alike are betrayed. 

And alike are the laughter of BOSTON BLOCKADE. 

Come round then, ye Comrades of Honour and Truth, 
Experienc'd Age a.nd high-spirited Youth; 
With Drum and with Fife make the Chorus more shrill. 
And echo shall waft it to WASHINGTON'S Hill. 



BOSTON BLOCKADE 117 

All brave BRITISH Hearts shall beat Time while we 

sing, 
Due Force to our Arms, and Long Life to the King. 
To the Honour of both be our Banners displayed, 
And a glorious End to the BOSTON BLOCKADE. 



As it turned out, the audience had not the pleas- 
ure of listening to these polished verses. The per- 
formance was in full swing ; a comic actor held the 
stage, mimicking General Washington and holding 
him up to ridicule, when a sergeant rushed on the 
stage, crying, "The Yankees are attacking the works 
on Bunker Hill!" 

The audience, supposing this to be part of the 
play, laughed and applauded: a happy thought! a 
capital touch! What were their feelings when the 
senior officer present rose and called, ''Officers to 
their posts!" The assembly broke up in disorder. 
The officers summoned their men and hastened to 
Bunker Hill, where they arrived too late! Major 
Knowlton, who had fought so bravely in the battle 
of June 17th, had paid a second visit to the hill, 
burned some buildings and carried off several pris- 
oners. 

Meanwhile the Tory ladies, deprived of their gal- 
lant red-coated escorts, scuttled home as best they 
might through the dark, crooked streets, and their 



Ii8 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

patriot sisters, who had refused to go to the en- 
tertainment, made merry over the episode for days 
afterward. 

To lovers of Hawthorne, this story might well 
be followed by that wonderful tale of * 'Howe's 
Masquerade,"^ which used to thrill me as a child, 
and which I cannot even now read unmoved. If not 
true in actual fact, it gives with absolute truth the 
Spirit of Seventy-Six. 

The winter was a mild one: all too mild for 
Washington. He was eager to cross the ice on the 
Back Bay and attack the town; but the ice would 
not bear. Week by week he watched and tested 
it; all in vain. It was not till February, that 
"strong little month,'* that the real cold came. 
"When the days begin to lengthen, the cold begins 
to strengthen." Day followed day of keen, dry 
cold ; night by night the ice "made," till a floor of 
crystal, solid as rock, lay about the peninsula of 
Boston. Washington called a council of war and 
urged an assault on the town. Alas ! his field offi- 
cers demurred, shook their heads, would none of it. 
Reluctantly he abandoned the plan, and determined 
to seize instead Dorchester Heights and Noddle's 
Island (East Boston). 

*"Twice-Tol(i Tales." Nathaniel Hawthorne. 



BOSTON BLOCKADE 119 

On March 2d, Abigail Adams writes to her hus- 
band: 

"I have been kept in a continual state of anxiety 
and expectation ever since you left me. It has been 
said 'tomorrow' and 'tomorrow/ for this month, 
but when the dreadful tomorrow will be, I know 
not. But hark ! The house this instant shakes with 
the roar of cannon. I have been to the door, and 
find it is a cannonade from our army. Orders, I 
find, are come for all the remaining militia to re- 
pair to the lines Monday night by twelve oclock. 
No sleep for me tonight. And if I cannot sleep, 
who have no guilt upon my soul with regard to this 
cause, how shall the miserable wretches who have 
been the procurers of this dreadful scene, and those 
who are to be the actors, lie down with the load of 
guilt upon their souls?" 

The story continues through the following days. 

Sunday evening. 

"I went to bed after twelve, but got no rest ; the 
cannon continued firing, and my heart beat pace 
with them all night. We have had a pretty quiet 
day, but what tomorrow will bring forth, God only 
knows." 

"Monday evening. Tolerably quiet. Today the 



120 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

militia have all mustered, with three days' pro- 
vision, and are all marched by three o'clock this 
afternoon, though their notice was no longer ago 
than eight o'clock Saturday. And now we have 
scarcely a man, but our regular guards, either in 
Weymouth, Hingham, Braintree, or Milton, and the 
militia from the more remote towns are called in 
as seacoast guards. Can you form to yourself an 
idea of our sensations? 

"I have just returned from Penn's Hill, where I 
have been sitting to hear the amazing roar of can- 
non, and from whence I could see every shell which 
was thrown. The sound, I think, is one of the 
grandest in nature, and is of the true species of the 
sublime. 'Tis now an incessant roar; but oh! the 
fatal ideas which are connected with the sound! 
How many of our dear countrymen must fall ! 

"Tuesday morning. I went to bed about twelve, 
and rose again a little after one. I could no more 
sleep than if I had been in the engagement; the rat- 
tHng of the windows, the jar of the house, the con- 
tinual roar of twenty-four pounders, and the burst- 
ing of shells, give us such ideas, and realize a scene 
to us of which we could form scarcely any concep- 
tion. About six, this morning, all was quiet. I 
rejoiced in a few hours' calm. I hear we got pos- 



BOSTON BLOCKADE 121 

session of Dorchester Hill last night; four thou- 
sand men upon it today; lost but one man. The 
ships are all drawn round the town. Tonight we 
shall realize a more terrible scene still. I some- 
times think I cannot stand it. I wish myself with 
you, out of hearing, as I cannot assist them. I 
hope to give you joy of Boston, even if it is in 
ruins, before I send this away. I am too much 
agitated to write as I ought, and languid for want 
of rest. 

'Thursday. All my anxiety and distress is at 
present at an end. I feel disappointed. This day 
our militia are all returning, without effecting any- 
thing more than taking possession of Dorchester 
Hill. I hope it is wise and just, but, from all the 
muster and stir, I hoped and expected more im- 
portant and decisive scenes. I would not have suf- 
fered all I have for two such hills. Ever since the 
taking of that, we have had a perfect calm; nor 
can I learn what effect it has had in Boston. I do 
not hear of one person's escaping since.'* 

Abigail need not have suffered even this moment- 
ary discouragement, could she have foreseen the 
outcome of these hours of suspense. The cannonade 
which so shook the neighboring towns was ordered 
by Washington to divert the attention of the Brit- 



122 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

ish, and to drown the noise of carts crossing the 
frozen ground : carts whose wheels were bound with 
straw, and before which the road was strewn with 
straw, still further to deaden the sound. General 
Thomas was moving from Roxbury to South Bos- 
ton with twelve hundred men. Silently, under cover 
of the darkness, and later of a thick white fog, 
under shelter of that good thunder of the Cam- 
bridge guns, they marched ; silently, they took their 
new stand, laid down their arms to take up pick- 
axe and spade. In the morning, when the fog 
lifted, the amazed British looked out on a row 
of formidable entrenchments on Dorchester Heights, 
just above their heads. 

Great was the consternation. Howe summoned 
his officers, and prepared for a counter-attack; but 
Dame Nature, apparently in league with the pa- 
triots, responded with a furious storm which, last- 
ing several days, made the action from Castle 
Island which he had planned impossible. During 
these days of storm, Washington was strengthening 
his defenses. Howe looked, and realized that the 
game was up. Others realized it too: the select- 
men of Boston quietly intimated to him that if he 
left the town uninjured, his troops would be suf- 
fered to embark undisturbed. Washington gave no 



BOSTON BLOCKADE 123 

sign; waited, his powder dry, his matches burning. 
Nor did Howe answer the citizens in words; no 
words were needed for what he had to do. By day- 
break on March 17th, the troops began to embark; 
by nine o'clock the last boat had put off. Boston 
was evacuated, and Washington and his Continent- 
als entered the city.* 

*The actors in the scene have vanished into deeper 
obscurity than even that wild Indian band who scat- 
tered the cargoes of the tea ships on the waves, and 
gained a place in history, yet left no names. But 
superstition, among other legends of this mansion, 
(the Province House) repeats the wondrous tale, 
that on the anniversary night of Britain's discomfit- 
ure the ghosts of the ancient governors of Massa- 
chusetts still glide through the portal of the Prov- 
ince House. And, last of all, comes a figure shroud- 
ed in a military cloak, tossing his clenched hands in- 
to the air, and stamping his ironshod boots upon the 
broad freestone steps, with a semblance of feverish 
despair, but without the sound of a foot-tramp." * 

^ Be it remembered that Washington did not remain in 
Boston, but anticipating Howe's attack on New York, was 
encamped in Brooklyn Heights by April : these movements 
ended the operations in New England. New York was the 
centre of the next campaign. 

* "Legends of the Province House." Nathaniel Hawthorne. 



CHAPTER VII 
IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 

WHAT was home life like, when Johnny and 
Abby Adams were little? It would be 
pleasant to see something of it in detail; if Mrs. 
Adams had only kept a diary ! As it is, it is mostly 
by side-lights that we can get a glimpse of that 
Braintree home, so happy in itself, so shadowed, in 
the days of which I write, by the tremendous cloud 
of public events. 

We know that Mrs. Adams spent some part of 
each day in writing letters ; but we have to stop and 
think about the other things she did, some of them 
were so different from the things women do today. 
Take the spinning and weaving ! A spinning wheel, 
for us, is a pretty, graceful article of furniture, 
very useful for tableaux vivants and the like; in the 
Adams household it was as constantly and inevit- 
ably used as our own sewing-machine. So was the 
loom, which is banished altogether from New Eng- 

124 



IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 125 

and homes, though in some parts of the South it 
is still in use. Mrs. Adams and her maids, Susie 
and Patty (poor Patty, who died that summer of 
1775!), not only made, but spun and wove, every 
article of clothing, every sheet, blanket, table-cloth, 
that the house afforded. The wool-wheel is a large 
clumsy affair, very different from the elegant little 
flax-wheel. You may still find it in some New Eng- 
land households. Some years ago, driving along a 
remote road, I came to a little brown house, so old 
and moss-covered that it seemed almost a part of 
the wood that surrounded it. I knocked, and hear- 
ing a cheery "Come in!" entered to find a neat 
kitchen, half filled by an enormous wheel, in front 
of which a little brownie of a woman was stepping 
back and forth, diligently spinning yarn. It was 
a pretty sight. 

Thinking of this, and trying, as I am constantly 
doing, to link the new time to the old, I find my- 
self calHng up another picture, a scene on Boston 
Common in the year 1749, when a society, formed 
for promoting industry and frugality, publicly cele- 
brated its fourth anniversary. "In the afternoon 
about three hundred young female spinsters, de- 
cently dressed, appeared on the Common at their 
spinning wheels. The wheels were placed regularly 



126 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

in rows, and a female was seated at each wheel. 
The weavers also appeared, cleanly dressed, in gar- 
ments of their own weaving. One of them work- 
ing at a loom on a stage was carried on men's shoul- 
ders, attended with music. An immense number 
of spectators were present.'* 

I wonder if Mrs. Adams and her maidens made 
any ^'Bounty Coats." When Washington gathered 
his army in May, 1775, there were no overcoats 
for the men. The Provincial Congress *'made a 
demand on the people for thirteen thousand warm 
coats to be ready for the soldiers by cold weather." 
There were no factories then, remember : no steam- 
power, no contractors, no anything — except the wo- 
men and their wheels. All over the country, the 
big wool-wheels began to fly, the shuttles sped back 
and forth through the sounding looms. Every 
town, every village, every lonely farmhouse, would 
do its part ; long before the appointed time, the coats 
were ready. Inside each coat was sewed the name 
of town and maker. Every soldier, volunteering 
for eight months' service, was given one of these 
coats as a bounty. We are told that "so highly 
were these 'Bounty Coats' prized, that the heirs 
of soldiers who were killed at Bunker Hill before 
receiving their coats were given a sum of money 



IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 127 

instead. The list of names of soldiers who then en- 
listed is known to this day as the 'Coat Roll,' and 
the names of the women who made the coats might 
form another roll of honor." 

I cannot be sure that one or more of these coats 
came from the lean-to farmhouse in Braintree, but 
I like .to think so, and certainly nothing is more 
probable. 

The women who refused to drink tea determined 
also to do without imported dress materials. From 
Massachusetts to South Carolina, the Daughters of 
Liberty agreed to wear only homespun garments. 
General Howe, finding "Linnen and Woollen Goods 
much wanted by the Rebels,'' carried away with 
him, when he evacuated Boston, all of such things 
as he could lay hands on. He reckoned without 
the spinners! In town and village, the Daughters 
flocked together, bringing their flax-wheels with 
them, sometimes to the number of sixty or seventy. 
In Rowley, Massachusetts, "A number of thirty- 
three respectable ladies of the town met at sunrise 
with their wheels to spend the day at the house of 
the Rev'd Jedidiah Jewell, in the laudable design of 
a spinning match. At an hour before sunset, the 
ladies there appearing neatly dressed, principally in 
homespun, a polite and generous repast of Ameri- 



128 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

can production was set for their entertainment. Af- 
ter which being present many spectators of both 
sexes, Mr. Jewell delivered a profitable discourse 
from Romans xii. 2 : *Not slothful in business, fer- 
vent in spirit, serving the Lord.' " ^ 

There was always a text and a sermon for the 
spinners; a favorite text was from the Book of 
Exodus: "And all the women that were wise- 
hearted did spin with their hands." The women of 
Northboro, forty-four of them, spun two thousand, 
two hundred, twenty-three knots of linen and tow, 
and wove one linen sheet and two towels, all in one 
day! 

This is amazing; but another record outdoes it: 
an extract from the diary of a young Connecticut 
girl, Abigail Foote, in this very year, 1775: 

"Fix'd gown for Prude, — Mend Mother's Riding- 
hood, — spun short thread, — Fix'd two gowns for 
Walsh's girls, — Carded tow, — Spun linen, — Worked 
on Cheese-basket, — Hatchel'd flax with Hannah, we 
did 51 lbs. apiece, — Pleated and ironed, — Read a 
Sermon of Doddridge's, — Spooled a piece, — Milked 
the cows, — Spun linen, did 50 knots, — Made a 
Broom of Guinea wheat straw, — Spun thread to 
whiten, — Set a Red dye, — Had two scholars from 

* "Social Life in Old New England." Mary C. Crawford. 



IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 129 

Mrs. Taylors, — I carded two pounds of whole wool 
and felt Nationly, — Spun harness twine, — Scoured 
the pewter." 

One feels confident that Abby Adams had no 
such record as this to show. She was an indus- 
trious and capable girl, but Mother Abigail would 
see to it that her day was not all spent in household 
work. There were lessons to learn and recite ; the 
daughter of John Adams must have a cultivated 
mind, as well as skilful fingers. John went to Mr. 
Thatcher's school, but for "Nabby'* and the two 
younger boys, "Mother" was the sole instructress. 
Both parents were full of anxious care and thought 
for the children's well-being. There is a beautiful 
letter from Mr. Adams, written in April, 1776, in 
which, after describing his multifarious labors, he 
thus pours out his mind. 

'"What will come of this labor, time will dis- 
cover. I shall get nothing by it, I believe, because 
I never get anything by anything that I do. I am 
sure the public or posterity ought to get something. 
I believe my children will think I might as well have 
thought and labored a little, night and day, for their 
benefit. But I will not bear the reproaches of my 
children. I will tell them that I studied and la- 
bored to procure a free constitution of government 



130 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

for them to solace themselves under, and if they do 
not prefer this to ample fortune, to ease and ele- 
gance, they are not my children, and I care not 
what becomes of them. They shall live upon thin 
diet, wear mean clothes, and work hard with cheer- 
ful hearts and free spirits, or they may be the chil- 
dren of the earth, or of no one, for me. / 

"John has genius, and so has Charles. Take 
care that they don't go astray. Cultivate their 
minds, inspire their little hearts, raise their wishes. 
Fix their attention upon great and glorious objects. 
Root out every little thing. Weed out every mean- 
ness. Make them great and manly. Teach them to 
scorn injustice, ingratitude, cowardice, and false- 
hood. Let them revere nothing but religion, mor- 
ality, and liberty. 

"Abby and Tommy are not forgotten by me, al- 
though I did not mention them before. The first, 
by reason of her sex, requires a different education 
from the two I have mentioned. Of this, you are 
the only judge. I want to send each of my little 
pretty flock some present or other. I have walked 
over this city twenty times, and gaped at every shop, 
like a countryman, to find something, but could not. 
Ask everyone of them what they would choose to 
have, and write it to me in your next letter. From 



IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 131 

this I shall judge of their taste and fancy and dis- 
cretion/* 

Husband and wife are full of forebodings, yet 
have always a heartening word for each other. 

"I have some thought," writes Mr. Adams, "of 
petitioning the General Court for leave to bring my 
family here. I am a lonely, forlorn creature here. 
. . . It is a cruel reflection, which very often comes 
across me, that I should be separated so far from 
those babes whose education and welfare lie so near 
my heart. But greater misfortunes than these must 
not divert us from superior duties. 

' "Your sentiments of the duties we owe to our 
country are such as^ become the best of women and 
the best of men. Among all the disappointments 
and perplexities which have fallen to my share in 
life, nothing has contributed so much to support 
my mind as the choice blessing of a wife whose 
capacity enabled her to comprehend, and whose pure 
virtue obliged her to approve, the views of her hus- 
band. This has been the cheering consolation of my 
heart in my most solitary, gloomy, and disconsolate 
hours. ... I want to take a walk with you in the 
garden, to go over to the common, the plain, the 
meadow. I want to take Charles in one hand and 
Tom in the other, and walk with you, Abby on your 



132 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

right hand and John upon my left, to view the corn 

fields, the orchards, etc. ..." 

J^ Shortly after this, on June 3d, Abigail writes : 

*'I wish to hear from you every opportunity, 
though you say no more than that you are well. I 
feel concerned lest your clothes should go to rags, 
having nobody to take any care of you in your long 
absence ; and then, you have not with you a proper 
change for the seasons. However, you must do the 
best you can. I have a suit of homespun for you 
whenever you return. I cannot avoid sometimes 
repining that the gifts of fortune were not bestowed 
upon us, that I might have enjoyed the happiness 
of spending my days with my partner, but as it is, 
I think it my duty to attend with frugality and 
economy to our own private affairs ; and if I cannot 
add to our little substance, yet see to it that it is 
not diminished. I should enjoy but little comfort in 
a state of idleness and uselessness. Here I can 
serve my partner, my family, and myself, and en- 
joy the satisfaction of your serving your country. . . 

"Everything bears a very great price. The mer- 
chant complains of the farmer and the farmer of 
the merchant, — both are extravagant. Living is 
double what it was one year ago. 1 

"I find you have licensed tea, but I am deter- 



IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 133 

mined not to be a purchaser unless I can have it 
at Congress price, and in that article the vendors 
pay no regard to Congress, asking ten, eight, and 
the lowest is seven and sixpence per pound. I should 
like a little green, but they say there is none to be 
had here. I only wish it for a medicine, as a re- 
lief to a nervous pain in my head to which I am 
sometimes subject. Were it as plenty as ever, I 
would not practice the use of it." 

Beside spinning, weaving and making all the 
clothing, Mrs. Adams and her maids must make 
all the soap for the family ; this was a regular part 
of the housewife's duty, and a disagreeable part 
it was. 

"You inquire of me," she writes, "whether I am 
making saltpetre. I have not yet attempted it, but 
after soap-making believe I shall make the experi- 
ment. I find as much as I can do to manufacture 
clothing for my family, which would else be naked." 

Many women were making saltpetre for the gun- 
powder ; let us hope they had fewer other necessary 
occupations than Mrs. Adams. 

Be sure that with all the plainer parts of house- 
wifery, Abby was also instructed in its graces. We 
can picture her sitting by her mother's side (Brother 
Johnny, perhaps, reading aloud the while from 



134 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

''Rollin's Ancient History," a work which he found 
entrancing) working at her sampler, or knitting a 
purse for Papa, far away, or mittens for her broth- 
ers. All the mittens and stockings, of course, were 
made at home as well as the clothes. Mitten knit- 
ting could be a fine art in those days. We read 
that one *'young New Hampshire girl, using fine 
flaxen yarn, knit the whole alphabet and a verse of 
poetry into a pair of mittens !" Then there is the 
wonderful story of Nancy Peabody. How her 
brother, coming in from work at night, announced 
that he had lost his mittens. How Nancy ran to 
the garret for wool, carded and spun a big hank of 
yarn that night, soaked and scoured it next morn- 
ing, and as soon as it was dry, sat down to knit. 
"In twenty-four hours from the time the brother 
announced his loss he had a fine new pair of double 
mittens." "I tell the tale as I've heard told." 

Did Abby learn netting with all the rest ? Doubt- 
less sh : did. Lady Washington set the fashion, and 
netted so well and so industriously that all her 
family were proud of trimming their dresses with 
her work. Then there was quilting, a fine art in- 
deed in those days, and the exquisite embroidery 
which we find in our grandmothers' cupboards, and 
over which we sigh partly in admiration, partly in 



IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 135 

compassion for the eyes which were so cruelly tried ; 
and a dozen other niceties and exquisitenesses of 
needlework. To quote the advertisement of Mrs. 
Sarah Wilson, who kept a boarding-school for girls 
in Philadelphia: 

"Young ladies may be educated in a genteel man- 
ner, and pains taken to teach them in regard to their 
behaviour, on reasonable terms. They may be 
taught all sorts fine needlework, viz., working on 
catgut or flowering muslin, sattin stitch, quince 
stitch, tent stitch, cross-stitch, open work, tambour, 
embroidering curtains or chairs, writing and cy- 
phering. Likewise waxwork in all its several 
branches, never as yet particularly taught here ; also 
how to take profiles in wax, to make wax flowers 
and fruits and pinbaskets." 

Boston would not be behind Philadelphia in mat- 
ters of high fashion. 

In the Boston News-Letter, in August, 17 16, we 
read: 

"This is to give notice that at the House of Mn 
George Brownell, late Schoolmaster in Hanover 
Street, Boston, are all sorts of Millinery Works 
done; making up Dresses and flowering of Muslin, 
making of furbelow'd Scarffs, and Quilting and cut- 
ting of Gentlewomen^s Hair in the newest Fashion; 



136 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

and also young Gentlewomen and children taught 
all sorts of fine works, as Feather-work, Filigre and 
Painting on Glass, Embroidering a new way, Tur- 
key-work for Handkerchiefs two ways, fine new 
Fashion purses, flourishing and plain Work, and 
Dancing cheaper than was ever taught in Boston. 
Brocaded work for Handkerchiefs and short Aprons 
upon Muslin; artificial Flowers work'd wdth a 
needle." 

And what did Abby Adams wear, say in 1776, 
when she was ten years old? Why, she wore a 
large hoop, and, I fear, very uncomfortable corsets, 
with a stiff board down the front ; high-heeled shoes, 
and mitts reaching to her elbows, and a ruffled or 
embroidered apron. Of all this we may be toler- 
ably sure, as it was the costume of the time. We 
may hope, however, Mrs. Adams being the sensible 
woman she was, that Abby did not suffer like Dolly 
Payne (afterward Dolly Madison), who went to 
school wearing "a white linen mask to keep every 
ray of sunshine from the complexion, a sunbonnet 
sewed on her head every morning by her careful 
mother, and long gloves covering the hands and 
arms." 

When Nelly Custis was four years old, her step- 
father. General Washington, ordered an outfit for 



IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 137 

her from England, "pack-thread stays, stiff coats of 
silk, masks, caps, bonnets, bibs, ruffles, necklaces, 
fans, silk and calamanco shoes, and leather pumps. 
There were also eight pairs of kid mitts and four 
pairs of gloves." Poor Nelly! 

But to return to Abby Adams. One article of 
her winter costume has a personal interest for me, 
because it survived to my own time, and I suffered 
under, or rather in it, in my childhood. The pump- 
kin hood ! It has genuine historical interest, for it 
dates back to the days of the unwarmed meeting- 
house, when a woman or a girl-child must wrap up 
her head, and smuggle in a hot brick or a hot stick 
for her feet, if she would keep alive through meet- 
ing. How ugly the thing was! Of clumsy oblong 
shape, coming well forward over the face; heavily 
quilted, an inch thick or so ; knots of narrow ribbon 
or of worsted sticking up here and there; I de- 
tested it, thought it a hardship to be condemned to 
wear it, instead of being thankful for warm ears 
and a historic atmosphere. I think our pumpkin 
hoods were among the last to survive, and some of 
the other girls had already beauteous things called 
skating-caps, fitting the head closely, displaying pie- 
shaped sections of contrasting colors, gray and pur- 
ple, blue and scarlet, knitted or crocheted, I forget 



138 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

which. Looking back to the early Sixties, the skat^ 
ing-cap still seems among the greatly desirable 
things of life. 

Perhaps we have gone as far as we can in pictur- 
ing little Abby Adams, who grew up an accom- 
plished and charming young woman, and in due time 
married, by curious coincidence, a Mr. Smith, thus 
taking as a married woman her mother's maiden 
name. Let us return to the elder Abigail. 

Left alone to manage all affairs, household and 
•educational, it is not strange that her keen, alert' 
mind sought wider fields for exercise than home life 
afforded. She thought for herself, and her thought 
took a direction which now seems prophetic. No 
■doubt she was in merry mood when she wrote to 
John on March 31st, 1776, yet there is a ring of 
earnestness under the playfulness. 

(Note that the Assembly of Virginia, roused by 
the burning of Norfolk, had just voted to propose 
to Congress "that the colonies be declared free and 
independent"; and afterward the British flag had 
been hauled down at Williamsburg and replaced by 
a banner with thirteen stripes.) 

"I long to hear," writes Abigail to her dearest 
friend, "that you have declared an independency. 
And, by the way, in the new code of laws which I 



IN HAPPY BRAINTREK 139 

suppose it will be necessary for you to make, I de- 
sire you would remember the ladies and be more 
generous and favorable to them than your ances- 
tors. Do not put such unlimited power into the 
hands of the husbands. Remember, all men would 
be tyrants if they could. If particular care and 
attention is not paid to the ladies, we are deter- 
mined to foment a rebellion, and will not hold our- 
selves bound by any laws in which we have no voice 
or representation. 

"That your sex are naturally tyrannical is a truth 
so thoroughly established as to admit of no dispute; 
but such of you as wish to be happy willingly give 
up the harsh title of master for the more tender 
and endearing one of friend. Why, then, not put 
it out of the power of the vicious and the lawless 
to use us with cruelty and indignity with impunity? 
Men of sense in all ages abhor those customs which 
treat us only as the vassals of your sex; regard us 
then as beings placed by Providence under your pro- 
tection, and in imitation of the Supreme Being 
make use of that power only for our happiness." 
Mr. Adams replies, in high amusement : 
"As to your extraordinary code of laws, I can- 
not but laugh. We have been told that our struggle 
has loosened the bonds of government everywhere; 



140 ABIGiJL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

that children and apprentices were disobedient ; that 
schools and colleges were grown turbulent ; that In- 
dians slighted their guardians, and negroes grew in- 
solent to their masters. But your letter was the first 
intimation that another tribe, more numerous and 
powerful than all the rest, were grown discontented. 
This is rather too coarse a compliment, but you are 
so saucy, I won't blot it out. Depend upon it, we 
know better than to repeal our masculine systems. 
Although they are in full force, you know they are 
little more than theory. We dare not exert our 
power in its full latitude. We are obliged to go 
fair and softly, and, in practice, you know we are 
the subjects. We have only the name of masters, 
and rather than give up this, which would completely 
subject us to the despotism of the petticoat, I hope 
General Washington and all our brave heroes would 
fight; I am sure every good politician would plot, 
as long as he would against despotism, empire, mon- 
archy, aristocracy, oligarchy, or ochlocracy. A fine 
story, indeed! I begin to think the ministry as 
deep as they are wicked. After stirring up Tories, 
land-jobbers, trimmers, bigots, Canadians, Indians, 
negroes, Hanoverians, Hessians, Russians, Irish 
Roman Catholic, Scotch renegades, at last they have 



IN HAPPY BRAINTREE 141 

stimulated the to demand new privileges and 

threaten to rebel." 

Doubtless John thought this settled the question ; 
but Abigail had the last word to say. 

"I cannot say that I think you are very generous 
to the ladies ; for, whilst you are proclaiming peace 
and good-will to men, emancipating all nations, you 
insist upon retaining an absolute power over wives. 
But you must remember that arbitrary power is, like 
most other things which are very hard, very liable 
to be broken; and, notwithstanding all your wise 
laws and maxims, we have it in our power, not only 
to free ourselves, but to subdue our masters, and, 
without violence, throw both your natural and le- 
gal authority at our feet: — 

Charm by accepting, by submitting sway, 
.Yet have our humor most when we obey." 



CHAPTER VIII 
INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 

WHILE John and Abigail were tilting merrily 
at each other, the days were hastening on, 
and the first great climax of American history was 
drawing near. We must turn to our histories for 
the account of those June days in Philadelphia, when 
"the child Independence" was making his magical 
growth to manhood ; when it was coming to be fin- 
ally realized that "the country was not only ripe 
for independence, but was in danger of becoming 
rotten for want of it"; when the notable Committee 
of Five was appointed, charged with the duty of 
preparing a Declaration of the Independence of the 
thirteen colonies. Everyone knows their names: 
Roger Sherman, Robert Livingston, Benjamin 
Franklin, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson. Every- 
one knows that Jefferson wrote the Declaration ; yet 
Adams, it was said, stood forth as "the Atlas of 
Independence," bearing on his shoulders the main 
burden of the tremendous decision. 

142 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 143 

We must read of it in his own words of solemn 
rejoicing : 

"Yesterday, the greatest question was decided 
which ever was debated in America, and a greater, 
perhaps, never was nor will be decided among men. 
A Resolution was passed without one dissenting col- 
ony 'that these United Colonies are, and of right 
ought to be, free and independent States, and as 
such they have, and of right ought to have, full 
power to make war, conclude peace, establish com- 
merce, and to do all other acts and things which 
other States may rightfully do/ You will see, in a 
few days, a Declaration setting forth the causes 
which have impelled us to this mighty revolution, 
and the reasons which will justify it in the sight of 
God and man. A plan of confederation will be 
taken up in a few days. . . . 

"The second day of July, 1776, will be the most 
memorable epocha in the history of America. I am 
apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeed- 
ing generations as the great anniversary festival. It 
ought to be commemorated as the day of deliver- 
ance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. 
It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, 
with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and 



144 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

illuminations, from one end of this continent to the 
other, from this time forward forevermore. 

"You will think me transported with enthusiasm, 
but I am not. I am well aware of the toil and blood 
and treasure that it will cost us to maintain this 
Declaration and support and defend these Stated. 
Yet, through all the gloom, I can see the rays of 
ravishing light and glory. I can see that the end 
is more than worth all the means. And that pos- 
terity will triumph in that day's transaction, even 
although we should rue it, which I trust in God we 
shall not." 

We celebrate the Fourth of July, the day upon 
which the form of the Declaration of Independence 
was agreed to, instead of the second, when it was 
determined upon by Congress. It matters little; 
these words of John Adams' shine like a halo round 
our Independence Day. May it ever be solemnized 
as he would have it, "from this time forward for- 
evermore." 

We can fancy the feelings of the faithful and lov- 
ing wife as she read these words, which no Ameri- 
can can ever read unmoved. We can see the tears 
rise to her bright dark eyes, tears of love and pride 
and trust unspeakable. We can see her gathering 
the children around her, Abby and John, Charles 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 145 

and even little Tommy, and reading the letter out 
to them in faltering but exultant tones. Yes, and 
we can see young John's head flung up, see his dark 
eyes, so like his mother's, brighten responsive, see, 
almost, the high beating of his answering heart. It 
was their great moment ; we are glad to share in it, 
even a little. 

Yet Abigail's reply is sober and discreet, like her- 
self. She writes : 

*^By yesterday's post I received two letters dated 
3d and 4th of July, and though your letters never 
fail to give me pleasure, be the subject what it will, 
yet it was greatly heightened by the prospect of 
the future happiness and glory of our country. Nor 
am I a little gratified when I reflect that a person so 
nearly connected with me has had the honor of be- 
ing a principal actor in laying a foundation for its 
future greatness. 

"May the foundation of our new Constitution 
be Justice, Truth, Righteousness! Like the wise 
man's house, may it be founded upon these rocks, 
and then neither storm nor tempests will over- 
throw it !" 

And again on the 21st: 

"Last Thursday, after hearing a very good ser- 
mon, I went with the multitude into King Street 



146 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

[Boston] to hear the Proclamation for Independ- 
ence read and proclaimed. Some field-pieces with 
the train were brought there. The troops appeared 
under arms, and all the inhabitants assembled there 
(the small-pox prevented many thousands from the 
country), when Colonel Crafts read from the bal- 
cony of the State House the proclamation. Great 
attention was given to every word. As soon as he 
ended, the cry from the balcony was, *God save our 
American States,* and then three cheers which rent 
the air. The bells rang, the privateers fired, the 
forts and batteries, the cannon were discharged, the 
platoons followed, and every face appeared joyful. 
Mr. Bowdoin then gave a sentiment, 'Stability and 
perpetuity to American independence.* After din- 
ner, the King's Arms were taken down from the 
State House, and every vestige of him from every 
place in which it appeared, and burnt in King Street. 
Thus ends royal authority in this State. And all 
the people shall say Amen." 

Meantime a foe appeared far more terrible than 
any who wore a red coat, though he bore the same 
color ; a foe whose little scarlet flag still carries ter- 
ror to the heart, shorn as he is today of half his 
power. 

The letters of this year are full of allusion to 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 147 

the small-pox; in fact, a fearful epidemic was 
raging. Mr. Adams writes in June : 

*The small-pox! the small-pox! what shall we 
do with it ? I could almost wish that an inoculating 
hospital was opened in every town in New England. 
It is some small consolation that the scoundrel sav- 
ages have taken a large dose of it. They plundered 
the baggage and stripped off the clothes of our men 
who had the small-pox out full upon them at the 
Cedars.'' 

Vaccination was not yet, but careful people were 
hastening to be inoculated, all the country over. 
Mrs. Adams took all the children into Boston for 
this purpose, and a miserable time they had of it. 
Her eyes were much affected, and for some days 
she could not write. Mr. Adams, receiving no let- 
ters, on July 20th grew anxious : 

'This has been a dull day to me. I waited the 
arrival of the post with much solicitude and impa- 
tience, but his arrival made me more solicitous still. 
'To be left at the Post Office,' in your handwriting 
on the back of a few lines from the Dr. was all that 
I could learn of you and my little folks. If you 
were too busy to write, I hoped that some kind hand 
would have been found to let me know something 
about you. Do my friends think that I have been a 



148 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

politician so long as to have lost all feeling? Do 
they suppose I have forgotten my wife and chil- 
dren? Or are they so panic-struck with the loss of 
Canada as to be afraid to correspond with me? Or 
have they forgotten that you have a husband, and 
your children a father? What have I done, or 
omitted to do, that I should be thus forgotten and 
neglected in the most tender and affecting scene of 
my life? Don't mistake me. I don't blame you. 
Your time and thoughts must have been wholly 
taken up with your own and your family's situation 
and necessities ; but twenty other persons might 
have informed me. 

"I suppose that you intended to have run slyly 
through the small-pox with the family, without let- 
ting me know it, and then have sent me an account 
that you were all well. This might be a kind in- 
tention, and if the design had succeeded, would have 
made me very joyous. But the secret is out, and I 
am left to conjecture. But as the faculty have this 
distemper so much under command, I will flatter 
myself with the hope and expectation of soon hear- 
ing of your recovery." 

A few days later he writes: 

"How are you all this morning? Sick, weak, 
faint, in pain, or pretty well recovered? By this 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 149 

time, you are well acquainted with the small-pox. 
Pray, how do you like it?'* 

He had been inoculated himself, and knew all 
about it. He longed to send some comforting thing 
to his beloved, and fixed upon a canister of green 
tea, for which she had sometimes sighed, though she 
would not buy it. He sent the tea by a friend, Mr. 
Garry, **an old bachelor, and what is worse a poli- 
tician." I must add, "what is worse still, an ab- 
sent-minded person !" for he carried the tea to Mrs. 
Samuel Adams, who received it with great delight. 
Meantime, John Adams was flattering himself that 
his Abigail, amidst all her fatigues and distresses, 
was having "the poor relief of a dish of good tea." 
Mr. Garry returned to Philadelphia and Mr. Adams, 
meeting him, asked without a misgiving, "You de- 
livered the tea ?" 

"Yes, to Mr. Samuel Adams' lady." 

Poor John ! he was so vexed that he ordered an- 
other canister and sent it by a surer hand. He bids 
his wife "send a card to Mrs. S. A., and let her 
know that the canister was intended for you, and 
she may send it you, if she chooses, as it was 
charged to me. It is amazingly dear; nothing less 
than forty shillings, lawful money, a pound." 

Meantime Abigail was writing : 



150 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

"The herbs you mention I never received. I was 
upon a visit to Mrs. S. Adams about a week after 
Mr. Garry returned, when she entertained me with 
a very fine dish of green tea. The scarcity of the 
article made me ask her where she got it. She re- 
plied that her sweetheart sent it to her by Mr. Garry. 
I said nothing, but thought my sweetheart might 
have been equally kind, considering the disease I 
was visited with, and that it was recommended as a 
bracer. A little after, you mentioned a couple of 
bundles sent. I supposed one of them might con- 
tain the article, but found they were letters. How 
Mr. Garry should make such a mistake I know not. 
I shall take the liberty of sending for what is left 
of it, though I suppose it is half gone, as it was very 
freely used. If you had mentioned a single word 
of it in your letter, I should have immediately found 
out the mistake." 

Moral : Don't send "surprises" unless you are sure 
of the hand by which they are sent. 

There are no letters between October, 1776, and 
January, 1777, which means that John Adams had 
a happy visit at home with his dear ones. A win- 
ter, too, of tremendous excitement, of breathless 
waiting for mails and despatches. We can see Mr. 
Adams in his arm chair, one January day, trying to 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 151 

read — let us say Xenophon ! he would be good read- 
ing in those days — one eye on the book, the other 
out of window : Aladam Abigail opposite, with Abby 
beside her, both at their tambour work. 

"Isn't it time he was here ?" says Mr. Adams far 
the tenth time; and he gets up and starts on para- 
sangs of his own up and down the room. Madam 
Abigail probably suggests patience, after the manner 
of women, but she looks out of window just as often; 
as he does. 

At last! at last comes the clatter of hoofs. The 
post-rider (only nine years old, and he has riddert 
all the way from Boston!) is here. The gate clicks,, 
and Master Johnny's legs come flying up the path- 
He is waving a paper over his head ; I don't know^ 
who gets to the door first, but I seem to see the 
Head of the Family tearing the despatch open in: 
unstatesmanlike haste. 

On Christmas night, he reads, General Washing- 
ton crossed the Delaware above Trenton, amid ice 
and snow, storm and tempest. He surprised the 
British camp, captured a thousand Hessians and car- 
ried them off with him to Pennsylvania. 

Glory ! glory ! Stay ! there is more. On the sec- 
ond of January, he was once more face to face with 
the British at Trenton, surrounded by them; they 



152 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

had him fast. "I have the old fox penned !'* chuckles 
Cornwallis ; "I'll bag him in the morning !'* 

But morning showed a row of empty earthworks, 
and the fox and his cubs well on their way to Prince- 
ton, where they fell upon another body of British, 
routed them in twenty minutes, and carried off three 
hundred of them, with much ammunition and arms, 
whereof they, to wit, fox and cubs, stood grievously 
in need. 

This was the gist of the despatch ; I do not pre- 
tend to give its wording. But fancy the effect of it, 
however worded, on the quiet Braintree household ! 
John and Charles and even little Tommy, dancing 
up and down in their flapped waistcoats, shouting 
and huzzaing ; Abby, very likely, shedding tears of 
happiness over her tambour frame; Father John 
striding up and down the room again, but now in 
different mood, probably declaiming lines from Hor- 
ace in a voice that will not allow itself to tremble; 
Mother Abigail trying still to be Portia, and to pre- 
tend that she knows one end of the needle from the 
other. A pleasant picture indeed ; and — who knows ? 
Possibly not so far from the truth. 

All the harder was it, amid all these great hap- 
penings, for Mr. Adams to mount and ride, leaving 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 153 

his dear ones to face the winter without him; but 
mount he must, and did. 

He writes on his way back to Philadelphia : 
"Present my affection in the tenderest manner to 
my little deserving daughter and my amiable sons. 
It was cruel parting this morning. My heart was 
most deeply affected, although I had the presence of 
mind to appear composed. May God Almighty's 
providence protect you, my dear, and all our little 
ones. My good genius, my guardian angel, whis- 
pers me that we shall see happier days, and that 
I shall live to enjoy the felicities of domestic life 
with her whom my heart esteems above all earthly 
blessings." 

The war began to press heavily on New England 
housekeepers. Prices went steadily up, and the 
necessaries of life became hard to procure. Abi- 
gail writes in April, of 1777: "Indian corn at five 
shillings; rye, eleven and twelve shillings, but 
scarcely any to be had even at that price; beef, eight 
pence; veal, sixpence and eightpence; butter, one 
and sixpence; mutton, none; lamb, none; pork, 
none ; cotton-wool, none ; mean sugar, four pounds 
per hundred; molasses, none; New England rum, 
eight shillings per gallon; coffee, two and sixpence 
per pound; chocolate, three shillings." 



154 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

She tells at the same time a curious story, of five 
Tories being carted out of town under the direction 
of "Joice junior," for refusing to take the paper 
money of the new Republic. "Jo^ce junior'* was a 
name which might be assumed by any patriot who 
wished to redress a grievance. He wore a horrible 
mask, and in this case "was mounted on horseback, 
with a red coat, a white wig, and a drawn sword, 
with drum and fife following. A concourse of 
people to the amount of five hundred followed. 
They proceeded as far as Roxbury, when he or- 
dered the cart to be tipped up, then told them if 
they were ever caught in town again it should be 
at the expense of their lives. He then ordered his 
gang to return, which they did immediately without 
any disturbance/' 

In July, it is the women who take matters into 
their own hands. 

*'You must know," writes Abigail, "that there is 
a great scarcity of sugar and coffee, articles which 
the female part of the State is very loath to give 
up, especially whilst they consider the scarcity occa- 
sioned by the merchants having secreted a large 
quantity. There had been much rout and noise in 
the town for several weeks. Some stores had been 
opened by a number of people, and the coffee and 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 155 

sugar carried into the market and dealt out by 
pounds. It was rumored that an eminent, wealthy, 
stingy merchant (who is a bachelor) had a hogs- 
head of coffee in his store, which he refused to sell 
to the committee under six shillings per pound. A 
number of females, some say a hundred, some say 
more, assembled with a cart and trucks, marched 
down to the warehouse, and demanded the keys, 
which he refused to deliver. Upon which one of 
them seized him by his neck, and tossed him into the 
cart. Upon his finding no quarter, he delivered the 
keys, when they tipped up the cart and discharged 
him; then opened the warehouse, hoisted out the 
coffee themselves, put it into the trucks, and 
drove off. 

"It was reported that he had personal chastise- 
ment among them ; but this, I believe, was not true. 
A large concourse of men stood amazed, silent spec- 
tators of the whole transaction." 

This delighted John. "You have made me 
merry," he writes, "with the female frolic with the 
miser. But I hope the females will leave off their 
attachment to coffee. I assure you the best families 
in this place have left off, in a great measure, the 
use of West India goods. We must bring our- 
selves to live upon the produce of our own country. 



156 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

What would I give for some of your cider? Milk 
has become the breakfast of many of the wealthiest 
and genteelest families here." 

In August a report was spread that Howe's fleet 
was off Cape Ann. Boston took the alarm, and all 
was confusion, people packing up and carting out of 
town their household goods, military stores, in fact 
everything that was portable. Abigail writes : 

"Not less than a thousand teams were employed 
on Friday and Saturday; and, to their shame be it 
told, not a small trunk would they carry under eight 
dollars, and many of them, I am told, asked a hun- 
dred dollars a load; for carting a hogshead of mo- 
lasses eight miles, thirty dollars. O human nature ! 
or rather O inhuman nature! what art thou? The 
report of the fleet's being seen off Cape Ann Friday 
night gave me the alarm and though pretty weak, 
I set about packing up my things, and on Saturday 
removed a load. 

"When I looked around me and beheld the boun- 
ties of Heaven so liberally bestowed, in fine fields 
of corn, grass, flax, and English grain, and thought 
it might soon become a prey to these merciless rav- 
agers, our habitations laid waste, and if our flight 
preserved our lives, we must return to barren fields, 
empty barns, and desolate habitations, if any we find 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 157 

(perhaps not where to lay our heads), my heart 
was too full to bear the weight of affliction which I 
thought just ready to overtake us, and my body too 
weak almost to bear the shock, unsupported by my 
better half. 

**But, thanks be to Heaven, we are at present re- 
lieved from our fears respecting ourselves. I now 
feel anxious for your safety, but hope prudence will 
direct to a proper care and attention to yourselves. 
May this second attempt of Howe's prove his utter 
ruin. May destruction overtake him as a whirl- 
wind." 

John's reply to this letter is characteristic. 

"I think I have sometimes observed to you in con- 
versation, that upon examining the biography of il- 
lustrious men, you will generally find some female 
about them, in the relation of mother or wife or 
sister, to whose instigation a great part of their 
merit is to be ascribed. You will find a curious ex- 
ample of this in the case of Aspasia, the wife of 
Pericles. She was a woman of the greatest beauty 
and the first genius. She taught him, it is said, 
his refined maxims of policy, his lofty imperial elo- 
quence, nay, even composed the speeches on which 
so great a share of his reputation was founded. . . . 

"I wish some of our great men had such wives. 



■158 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

^By the account in your last letter, it seems the wo- 
men in Boston begin to think themselves able to 
serve their country. What a pity it is that our Gen- 
erals in the northern districts had not Aspasias to 
their wives! 

"I believe the two Howes have not very great 
women for wives. If they had, we should suffer 
more from their exertions than we do. This is our 
.;good fortune. A woman of good sense would not 
let her husband spend five weeks at sea in such a 
season of the year. A smart wife would have put 
Howe in possession of Philadelphia a long time 
ago." 

A week later he writes : 

"If Howe is gone to Charleston, you will have a 
little quiet, and enjoy your corn, and rye, and flax, 
and hay and other good things, until another sum- 
mer. But what shall we do for sugar and wine and 
rum? Why truly, I believe we must leave them 
off. Loaf sugar is only four dollars a pound here, 
and brown only a dollar for the meanest sort, and 
ten shillings for that a little better. Everybody here 
is leaving off loaf sugar, and most are laying aside 
brown." 

Still the prices rose and rose. On August 29th, 
John quotes : 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 159 

"Prices current. Four pounds a week for board, 
besides finding your own washing, shaving, candles, 
liquors, pipes, tobacco, wood, etc. Thirty shillings 
a week for a servant. It ought to be thirty shillings 
for a gentleman and four pounds for the servant, 
because he generally eats twice as much and makes 
twice as much trouble. Shoes, five dollars a pair. 
Salt, twenty-seven dollars a bushel. Butter, ten 
shillings a pound. Punch, twenty shillings a bowl. 
All the old women and young children are gone 
down to the Jersey shore to make salt. Salt water 
is boiling all round the coast, and I hope it will in- 
crease. For it is nothing but heedlessness and shift- 
lessness that prevents us from making salt enough 
for a supply. But necessity will bring us to it. As 
to sugar, molasses, rum, etc., we must leave them 
off. Whiskey is used here instead of rum, and I 
don't see but it is just as good. Of this the wheat 
and rye countries can easily distill enough for the 
use of the country. If I could get cider I would 
be content." 

In September he describes at length the making 
of molasses out of corn-stalks. "Scarcely a town or 
parish within forty miles of us but what has several 
mills at work; and had the experiment been made 
a month sooner many thousand barrels would have 



i6o ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

been made. No less than eighty have been made in 
the small town of Manchester. It answers very- 
well to distill, and may be boiled down to sugar. 
Thus you see," he adds, "we go from step to step 
in our improvements. We can live much better than 
we deserve within ourselves. Why should we bor- 
row foreign luxuries? Why should we wish to 
bring ruin upon ourselves? I feel as contented 
when I have breakfasted upon milk as ever I did 
with Hyson or Souchong. Coffee and sugar I use 
only as a rarity. There are none of these things 
but I could totally renounce. My dear friend knows 
that I could always conform to times and circum- 
stances. As yet I know nothing of hardships. My 
children have never cried for bread nor been desti- 
tute of clothing. Nor have the poor and needy gone 
empty from my door, whenever it was in my power 
to assist them.** 

Though the patriot ladies were ready enough to 
do without Hyson or Souchong they none the less 
greatly desired a cheering cup of something, and 
managed to get it without tax or expense. We read 
of tea made from ribwort, from sage, from tho- 
roughwort, from strawberry and currant leaves. 
''Hyperion tea,** called by a good patriot, "very deli- 
cate and most excellent," was made from raspberry 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST i6i 

leaves; "Liberty tea" from the four-leaved loose- 
strife. So there was great boiling and steeping go- 
ing on, and every housewife who had a garden 
patch, or who was near enough the woods and fields 
to go out "yarb-gathering," could be sure of a "dish 
of tay," without thought of King George or his 
myrmidons. 

There was a great harvest, in this year 1777; 
once more Mother Nature proclaimed herself on 
the side of Independence. The valleys lay so thick 
with corn that they did laugh and sing. Most of 
the able-bodied men being in the field (for the war 
was now in full swing) there were not enough hands 
to gather in the crops. Abigail fears that "if it is 
necessary to make any more drafts upon us, the 
women must reap the harvests"; and adds, "I am 
willing to do my part. I believe I could gather corn, 
and husk it ; but I should make a poor figure at dig- 
ging potatoes." 

Indeed, most of the harvesting that autumn was 
done by women, aided by old men and young boys. 
Delicate ladies, sturdy farmers* wives and daugh- 
ters, they worked side by side: and we read that 
"towards the end of August, at the Forks of 
Brandywine, girls were harnessing the ploughs, and 
preparing fallows for the seed, on the very fields 



i62 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

where, a twelvemonth from rhat date, a costly crop 
of human life was reaped." 

The reader of this little book, holding it in his 
right hand, should hold in his left a history of the 
United States and should have an atlas "handy 
by." 

Far and wide the war spread : campaign followed 
campaign : New York, White Plains, Crown Point : 
our affair is not with them, but with our faithful 
married lovers, still separated by the long leagues 
that lie between Massachusetts and Pennsylvania. 
I must, howevei , describe briefly what happened in 
and neai Philadelphia, where John Adams and his 
brother Congressmen were sitting. All through the 
spring and summer Washington had been harrying 
the British with varying fortunes. On August 24th, 
he entered Philadelphia with his army: four regi- 
ments of light horse, writes John Adams, four 
grand divisions of infantry, and the artillery with 
the matrosses. *'They marched twelve deep, and yet 
took up above two hours in passing by." Washing- 
ton led the march, and beside him rode the young 
Marquis de Lafayette, newly arrived ; a lad of nine- 
teen, who had left his young wife and his brilliant 
circle, to lay his sword at the feet of the American 
Republic. 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 163 

This "dress-parade" was not a magnificent one. 
The soldiers' boots were worn through ; their clothes 
were ragged, and of every hue and style. The least 
badly dressed among them, we are told, were those 
who wore the hunting shirt of brown linen. But 
the brown faces above the shirts were strong and 
keen, and alight with purpose and resolve; their 
horses were in prime condition: the green boughs 
they wore lent a touch of color; there was even a 
hint of splendor where the Stars and Stripes, newly 
assembled, fluttered on the breeze. "Fine and war- 
like troops," Lafayette pronounced them, "com- 
manded by officers of zeal and courage." John 
Adams writes in sober exultation to Portia: 

"The army, upon an accurate inspection of it, I 
find to be extremely well armed, pretty well clothed, 
and tolerably disciplined. . . . There is such a mix- 
ture of the sublime and the beautiful together with 
the useful in military discipline, that I wonder every 
officer we have is not charmed with it." Mr. 
Adams, after watching the parade, is convinced that 
he, in military life, should be a decisive disciplinar- 
ian. "I am convinced there is no other effective way 
of indulging benevolence, humanity, and the tender 
social passions in the army. There is no other w^ay 
of preserving the health and spirits of the men. 



i64 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

There is no other way of making them active and 
skilful in war; no other way of guarding an army 
against destruction by surprises; and no other 
method of giving them confidence in one another, 
of making them stand by one another in the hour 
of battle. Discipline in an army is like the laws 
of civil society." 

Dark days followed. Howe had landed with 
fresh troops of highly trained soldiers, bent on 
taking Philadelphia and driving out the Rebel 
Congress. On September eleventh, Mr. Adams 
writes : 

"The moments are critical here. We know not 
but the next will bring us an account of a general 
engagement begun, and when once begun, we know 
not how it will end, for the battle is not always to 
the strong. . . . But if it should be the will of 
Heaven that our army should be defeated, our ar- 
tillery lost, our best generals killed, and Philadel- 
phia fall in Mr. Howe's hands, still America is not 
conquered." 

Three days later Brandywine was lost and won; 
then came the fatal night of Paoli, when Anthony 
Wayne first measured swords with Comwallis, and 
found his own the shorter : and on September 26th, 
the British army entered Philadelphia. 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 165 

"Don't be anxious about me/' John Adams had 
written on the 14th, "nor about our great and sa- 
cred cause. It is the cause of truth and will pre- 
vail." 

On the 19th, Congress, yielding to the inevitable, 
removed to Yorktown and there continued its work. 
Mr. Adams, describing the removal briefly, says, "I 
shall avoid everything like history, and make no re- 
flections." I hasten to follow his example and re- 
turn to Braintree. 

On October 25th, 1777, Abigail writes: 

"The joyful news of the surrender (at Sarato- 
ga) of General Burgoyne and all his army, to our 
victorious troops, prompted me to take a ride this 
afternoon with my daughter to town, to join, to- 
morrow, with my friends in thanksgiving and 
praise to the Supreme Being who hath so remarka- 
bly delivered our enemies into our hands. And, 
hearing that an express is to go off tomorrow 
morning, I have retired to write you a few lines. 
I have received no letters from you since you left 
Philadelphia, by the post, and but one by any pri- 
vate hand. I have written you once before this. 
Do not fail of writing by the return of this express, 
and direct your letters to the care of my uncle, who 
has been a kind and faithful hand to me through 



i66 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

the whole season, and a constant attendant upon 
the post-office.'^ 

The leagues were to stretch yet farther between 
Portia and her dearest friend. A month after this, 
Mr. Adams asked and obtained leave of Congress 
to visit his family, mounted his horse, and rode joy- 
fully home to Braintree. We can well imagine the 
rejoicings that greeted his return; but they were 
short-lived. He had barely reached home when 
word came that he was appointed ambassador to 
France, and that the frigate Boston was being pre- 
pared to carry him thither as soon as possible. 

Here was a thunderbolt indeed ! Weary and worn 
after four years of incessant labor, John Adams had 
longed almost passionately for the joys and com- 
forts of home life and family affection. He weighed 
the matter well: the probability of capture on the 
high seas, of imprisonment or execution in Eng- 
land: the needs of his family, which he had been 
forced to neglect these four years past. "My chil- 
dren were growing up without my care in their edu- 
cation, and all my emoluments as a member of Con- 
gress for four years had not been sufficient to pay a 
laboring man upon my farm. . . . On the other 
hand, my country was in deep distress and in great 
danger. Her dearest interests would be involved in 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 167 

the relations she might form with foreign nations. 
My own plan of these relations had been deliberately 
formed and fully communicated to Congress nearly 
two years before. The confidence of my country 
was committed to me without my solicitation. My 
wife, who had always encouraged and animated 
me in all antecedent dangers and perplexities, did 
not fail me on this occasion. But she discovered an 
inclination to bear me company, with all our chil- 
dren. This proposal, however, she was soon con- 
vinced, was too hazardous and imprudent.'* 

Help from France was imperative. Franklin was 
already there, but greatly needing stronger sup- 
port. 

There was no real question of John Adams' de- 
cision : it was soon made, his faithful Portia acqui- 
escing without a murmur. She even agreed to 
Johnny's going with his father — or proposed it, we 
know not which; and preparations were made for 
the departure. Fortunately, the frigate took longer 
to prepare than the trunks ; it was not till February 
that all was ready, and the final parting came. Had 
it been known that even while he was embarking a 
treaty was being signed in Paris between France 
and America, this parting might have been delayed. 

Mr. Adams' diary gives us glimpses of the voy- 



i68 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

age, which was a stormy one and threatened other 
dangers beside. They fell in with some British 
ships, and one of them gave chase. 

"When the night approached, the wind died away, 
and we were left rolling and pitching in a calm, with 
our guns all out, our courses drawn up and every 
way prepared for battle; the officers and men ap- 
peared in good spirits and Captain Tucker said his 
orders were to carry me to France, and to take any 
prizes that might fall in his way ; he thought it his 
duty, therefore, to avoid fighting, especially with 
an unequal force, if he could, but if he could not 
avoid an engagement he would give them something 
that should make them remember him. I said, and 
did all in my power, to encourage the officers and 
men to fight them to the last extremity. My motives 
were more urgent than theirs ; for it will easily be 
believed that it would have been more eligible for 
me to be killed on board the Boston, or sunk to 
the bottom in her, than to be taken prisoner. I 
sat in the cabin, at the windows in the stern, and 
saw the enemy gaining upon us very fast, she ap- 
pearing to have a breeze of wind, while we had 
none. Our powder, cartridges, and balls, were 
placed by the guns, and everything ready to begin 
the action. Although it was calm on the surface 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 169 

of the sea, where we lay, the heavens had been 
gradually overspread with black clouds, and the 
wind began to spring up. Our ship began to move. 
The night came on, and it was soon dark. We lost 
sight of our enemy, who did not appear to me very 
ardent to overtake us. But the wind increased to a 
hurricane." 

The hurricane proved a terrible one. The diary 
tells us; 

"It would be fruitless to attempt a description of 
what I saw, heard, and felt, during these three days 
and nights. To describe the ocean, the waves, the 
winds; the ship, her motions, rollings, wringings, 
and agonies; the sailors, their countenances, lan- 
guage, and behavior, is impossible. No man could 
keep upon his legs and nothing could be kept in its 
place; an universal wreck of everything in all parts 
of the ship, chests, casks, bottles, etc. No place or 
person was dry. On one of these nights, a thunder- 
bolt struck three men upon deck, and wounded one 
of them a little by a scorch upon his shoulder; it 
also struck our maintop-mast. . . . 

"It is a great satisfaction to me, however, to 
recollect that I was myself perfectly calm, during 
the whole. I found, by the opinion of the people 
aboard, and of the captain himself, that we were in 



170 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

danger, and of this I was certain also, from my own 
observation: but I thought myself in the way of 
my duty, and I did not repent of my voyage. I 
confess I often regretted that I had brought my 
son. I was not so clear that it was my duty to 
expose him as myself, but I had been led to it by 
the child's inclination, and by the advice of all my 
friends. My Johnny's behavior gave me a satis- 
faction that I cannot express ; fully sensible of our 
danger, he was constantly endeavoring to bear it 
with a manly patience, very attentive to me, and 
his thoughts constantly running in a serious strain." 

A few days later came a yet more thrilling event. 
The log of the Boston says : 

*'Saw a ship to the south-east standing to the 
westward. Asked the favor of the Hon. John 
Adams to chase, which was immediately granted. 
Made sail and gave chase. At 3 p. m. came up with 
the chase, gave her a gun and she returned me 
three, one shot of which carried away my mizzen 
yard. She immediately struck. Out boat. Got the 
prisoners on board. She proved the ship Martha 
from London, bound to New York. I ordered a 
prize-master on board, intending to send her to 
France, but on consulting Mr. Adams, he thought 
most advisable to send her to America." 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 171 

Thus Commodore Tucker, comander of the Bos- 
ton, brief and business-like. Mr. Adams notes that 
**she was a letter of marque, with fourteen guns. 
She fired upon us, and one of her shot went through 
our mizzen yard. I happened to be upon the quar- 
ter deck, and in the direction from the ship to the 
yard, so that the ball went directly over my head. 
We, upon this, turned our broadside, which the in- 
stant she saw she struck. Captain Tucker very pru- 
dently ordered his officers not to fire.'* 

"I happened to be upon the quarter deck!" Mr. 
Adams, what were you doing on the quarter deck? 
You certainly had no business there during a battle. 
Log and diary are equally discreet, but in his later 
years Commodore Tucker used to tell the story of 
that hour; how on discovering the enemy's ship, 
"neither he nor Mr. Adams could resist the tempta- 
tion to engage, although against the dictates of pru- 
dent duty. Tucker, however, stipulated that Mr. 
Adams should remain in the lower part of the ship, 
as a place of safety. But no sooner had the battle 
commenced, than he was seen on deck, with a 
musket in his hands, fighting as a common marine. 
The Commodore peremptorily ordered him below; 
but called instantly away, it was not until consider- 
able time had elapsed, that he discovered this public 



172 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

minister still at his post, intently engaged in firing 
upon the enemy. Advancing, he exclaimed, *Why 
are you here, sir? I am commanded by the Conti- 
nental Congress to carry you in safety to Europe, 
and I will do it ;' and, seizing him in his arms, for- 
cibly carried him from the scene of danger/' 

I trust Master Johnny was safe in his cabin while 
all this was going on : be very sure that Portia was 
never told of it, or at least not till long afterward. 
She, poor lady, was meantime cheering herself as 
well as she could ; visiting the French fleet, just ar- 
rived in Boston Harbor, and entertaining some of 
its officers, who, she thought, were being neglected 
in Boston town. 

"Generals Heath and Hancock have done their 
part, but very few, if any, private families have 
any acquaintance with them. Perhaps I feel more 
anxious to have them distinguished, on account of 
the near and dear connections I have among them. 
It would gratify me much, if I had it in my power, 
to entertain every officer in the fleet.'* 

This letter was written (I think) on a tired or 
discouraged day, for in it we actually find Portia re- 
proaching her John, a strange thing indeed. His 
first letter had been all too short for her anxious 
heart. 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 173; 

"In the very few lines I have received from you, 
not the least mention is made that you have ever 
received a line from me. I have not been so parsi- 
monious as my friend, — perhaps I am not so pru- 
dent ; but I cannot take my pen, with my heart over- 
flowing, and not give utterance to some of the 
abundance which is in it. Could you, after a thou- 
sand fears and anxieties, long expectation, and pain- 
ful suspense, be satisfied with my telling you that 
I was well, that I wished you were with me, that 
my daughter sent her duty, that I had ordered some 
articles for you, which I hoped would arrive, etc.^ 
etc.? By Heaven, if you could, you have changed 
hearts with some frozen Laplander, or made a 
voyage to a region that has chilled every drop of 
your blood ; but I will restrain a pen already, I fear, 
too rash, nor shall it tell you how much I have 
suffered from this appearance of — inattention." 

She adds that the articles sent by Captain Tucker 
have "arrived safe, and will be of great service to 
me. Our money is very little better than blank 
paper. It takes forty dollars to purchase a barrel 
of cider; fifty pounds lawful for a hundred of 
sugar, and fifty dollars for a hundred of flour ; four 
dollars per day for a laborer, and find him, which 
will amount to four more. You will see, by bills 



174 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

drawn before the date of this, that I had taken 
the method which I was happy in finding you had 
directed me to. I shall draw for the rest as I find 
my situation requires. No article that can be named, 
foreign or domestic, but what costs more than dou- 
ble in hard money what it once sold for.'' 

Poor Portia! poor John! Some of the letters 
she longed for were taken by the enemy and thrown 
overboard. John was writing constantly, and Por- 
tia's complaining letter was not a consoling one to 
receive in "Europe, the dullest place in the world," 
as he calls it. On December 2d, 1778, he writes : 

*Tor Heaven's sake, my dear, don't indulge a 
thought that it is possible for me to neglect or for- 
get all that is dear to me in this world. It is im- 
possible for me to write as I did in America. What 
should I write? It is not safe to write anything 
that one is not willing should go into all the news- 
papers of the world. I know not by whom to write. 
I never know what conveyance is safe. ... I 
know nothing of many vessels that go from the sea- 
ports, and if I knew of all, there are some that I 
should not trust. Notwithstanding all this, I have 
written to you not much less than fifty letters. I 
am astonished that you have received no more. But 
almost every vessel has been taken. . . . God knows 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 175 

I don't spend my time in idleness, or in gazing at 
curiosities. I never wrote more letters, however 
empty they may have been. But by what I hear, 
they have been all, or nearly all, taken or sunk. 
My friends complain that they have not received 
letters from me. I may as well complain. I have 
received scarcely any letters from America. I have 
written three where I have received one." 
jl^On Sunday evening, December 27th, Abigail 
writes a letter that makes our hearts ache with her. 

"How lonely are my days! how solitary are my 
nights! secluded from all society but my two little 
boys and my domestics. By the mountains of snow 
which surround me, I could almost fancy myself 
in Greenland. We have had four of the coldest 
days I ever knew, and they were followed by the 
severest snow-storm I ever remember. The wind, 
blowing like a hurricane for fifteen or twenty hours, 
rendered it impossible for man or beast to live 
abroad, and has blocked up the roads so that they 
are impassable. A week ago I parted with my 
daughter, at the request of our Plymouth friends, 
to spend a month with them; so that I am solitary 
indeed. 

"Can the best of friends recollect that for four- 
teen years past I have not spent a whole winter 



176 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

alone? Some part of the dismal season has here- 
tofore been mitigated and softened by the social 
converse and participation of the friend of my 
youth. 

"How insupportable the idea that three thousand 
miles and the vast ocean now divide us ! but divide 
only our persons, for the heart of my friend is in 
the bosom of his partner. More than half a score 
of years has so riveted it there, that the fabric which 
contains it must crumble into dust ere the particles 
can be separated ; for 

In one fate, our hearts, our fortunes. 
And our beings blend. 

"I cannot describe to you how much I was af- 
fected the other day with a Scotch song, which 
was sung to me by a young lady in order to divert 
a melancholy hour; but it had quite a different ef- 
fect, and the native simplicity of it had all the 
power of a well- wrought tragedy. When I could 
conquer my sensibility I begged the song, and Mas- 
ter Charles has learned it, and consoles his mamma 
by singing it to her. I will inclose it to you. It 
has beauties in it to me which an indifferent person 
would not feel, perhaps. 

His very foot has music in 't, 
As he comes up the stairs. 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 177 

"How oft has my heart danced to the sound of 

that music ! 

And shall I see his face again? 
And shall I hear him speak 

"Gracious Heaven ! hear and answer my daily pe- 
tition, by banishing all my grief. 

"I am sometimes quite discouraged from writing. 
So many vessels are taken that there is little chance 
of a letter's reaching your hands. That I meet 
with so few returns is a circumstance that lies heavy 
at my heart. If this finds its way to you, it will 
go by the Alliance. By her I have written before. 
She has not yet sailed, and I love to amuse myself 
with my pen, and pour out some of the tender sen- 
timents of a heart overflowing with affection, not 
for the eye of a cruel enemy, who, no doubt, would 
ridicule every humane and social sentiment, long 
ago grown callous to the finer sensibilities, but for 
the sympathetic heart that beats in unison with 

"Portia's/* 

John replies to this : 

"Dr. J. is transcribing your Scotch song, which 
is a charming one. Oh, my leaping heart ! 

"I must not write a word to you about politics, 
because you are a woman. 

"What an offense have I committed 1 A woman ! 



178 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

"I shall soon make it up. I think women better 
than men, in general, and I know that you can 
keep a secret as well as any man whatever. But 
the world don't know this. Therefore if I were to 
write my sentiments to you, and the letter should 
be caught and hitched into a newspaper, the world 
would say I was not to be trusted with a secret." 

To us, it need be no secret that there were di- 
visions in the American Legation at Paris. Frank- 
lin was at odds with his colleagues, who seem to 
have been more hindrance than help to him. More- 
over, Congress, in the excitement of the treaty, 
forgot, for a time, all about John Adams and his 
mission. In short, he came too late for the fair, 
found no orders, and little to do, save talk with 
the old philosopher and the Comte de Vergennes. 
Now and then the diary gives us a sidelight on 
Franklin. 

"Dr. Franklin, upon my saying the other day that 
I fancied he did not exercise so much as he was 
wont, answered, 'Yes, I walk a league every day 
in my chamber; I walk quick, and for an hour, so 
that I go a league; I make a point of religion of it.* 
I replied, *That as the commandment, *'thou shalt 
not kill," forbids a man to kill himself as well as his 
neighbor, it was manifestly a breach of the sixth 



INDEPENDENCE AT LAST 179 

commandment not to exercise; so that he might 
easily prove it to be a religious point/ " 

John Adams could not be idle. *'I cannot eat pen- 
sions and sinecures," he writes: "they would stick 
in my throat." He was in no mood to follow Frank- 
lin's advice and wait quietly for further orders. 
There was nothing for him to do, and he would 
go home in the first available ship. Accordingly, 
on June 17th, 1779, he sailed on the Sensible, with 
son John beside him, and that episode was closed. 

All this time the war was going on and prices 
were rising. Abigail "blushes" while giving John 
the prices current : "All butcher's meat from a dollar 
to eight shillings per pound; corn twenty-five dol- 
lars, rye thirty, per bushel; flour fifty pounds per 
hundred; potatoes ten dollars per bushel; butter 
twelve shillings a pound, cheese eight ; sugar twelve 
shillings a pound; molasses twelve dollars per gal- 
lon; labor six and eight dollars a day; a common 
cow from sixty to seventy pounds ; and all English 
goods in proportion." 

By March, labor was eight dollars per day, with 
twelve dollars in prospect; goods of all kinds at 
such a price that Abigail hardly dares mention it. 

"Linens are sold at twenty dollars per yard; 
the most ordinary sort of calicoes at thirty and 



i8o ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

forty; broadcloths at forty pounds per yard; West 
India goods full as high; molasses at twenty dol- 
lars per gallon ; sugar four dollars per pound, bohea 
tea at forty dollars; and our own produce in pro- 
portion ; butcher's meat at six and eight shillings per 
pound; board at fifty and sixty dollars per week." 
She adds: 

"In contemplation of my situation, I am some- 
times thrown into an agony of distress. Distance, 
dangers, and oh, I cannot name all the fears which 
sometimes oppress me, and harrow up my soul. Yet 
must the common lot of man one day take place, 
whether we dwell in our own native land or are far 
distant from it. That we rest under the shadow of 
the Almighty is the consolation to which I resort, 
and find that comfort which the world cannot give. 
If He sees best to give me back my friend, or to 
preserve my life to him, it will be so." 

She little thought that even while she wrote, her 
friend was spreading his wings — or rather, the 
broad white wings of the frigate Sensible, for his 
homeward flight. 



CHAPTER IX 
MR. ADAMS ABROAD 

IN AUGUST, 1779, Mr. Adams returned, and 
all was joy; but again the joy was short-lived. 
There seemed really no end to the trials of these 
two loving hearts. In November, Mr. Adams was 
again ordered to France on public service, and sailed 
in November. This time he took not only John 
but little Charles with him, and Abigail's heart was 
doubly desolate. 

"Dearest of Friends, — My habitation, how 
desolate it looks! my table, I sit down to it, but 
cannot swallow my food! Oh, why was I born 
with so much sensibility, and why, possessing it, 
have I so often been called to struggle with it? I 
wish to see you again. Were I sure you would not 
be gone, I could not withstand the temptation of 
coming to town, though my heart would suffer 
over again the cruel torture of separation. 

"What a cordial to my dejected spirits were the 
few lines last night received ! And does your heart 

181 



i82 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

forebode that we shall again be happy? My hopes 
and fears rise alternately. I cannot resign more 
than I do, unless life itself were called for. My 
dear sons, I cannot think of them without a tear. 
Little do they know the feelings of a mother's heart. 
May they be good and useful as their father ! Then 
they will in some measure reward the anxiety of a 
mother. My tenderest love to them. Remember 
me also to Mr. Thaxter, whose civilities and kind- 
ness I shall miss. 

"God Almighty bless and protect my dearest 
friend, and, in his own time, restore him to the af- 
fectionate bosom of 

"Portia." 

It was all the more lonely for Mrs. Adams that 
the winter was a severe one : "the sublimest winter" 
she ever saw. In December and January there fell 
the highest snow known in forty years; all through 
January and February, the Bay was frozen over, so 
that no vessel could pass through for a month. 
"We had neither snow, rain, nor the least thaw. It 
has been remarkably healthy, and we have lived 
along very comfortably, though many people have 
suffered greatly for food." 

In the long winter days, how eagerly Mrs. Adams 



MR. ADAMS ABROAD 183 

must have watched for the incoming mails! I do 
not know what were the postal arrangements of 
Braintree ; very likely there were none. In Boston, 
the Post Office was opened every Monday morning 
from the middle of March to the middle of Sep- 
tember, "at 7 of the clock, to deliver out all letters 
that do come by the post till twelve o'clock; from 
twelve to two o'clock, being dinner-time, no office 
kept; and from two o'clock in the afternoon to six 
o'clock the office will be open to take in all letters 
to go by the Southern and Western post." 

A single letter cost one shilling to send ; this rate 
held to the middle of the nineteenth century. Be- 
side letters, the faithful Portia sent to her John all 
the papers and news-letters she could lay hands on. 

Boston by this time had several newspapers. The 
first of these, appearing as early as 1704, was the 
Boston News-Letter, "Published by Authority." 
For some time this little sheet held the field alone ; 
but in 172 1 appeared the Boston Gazette, and the 
New England Courant. In both these, James 
Franklin, Benjamin's elder brother, had a hand; 
indeed, the Courant was his own paper, started 
when he was discharged from the stafiF of the 
Gazette, He seems to have been a quarrelsome 
fellow, was twice arraigned for contempt, and once 



i84 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

imprisoned. Benjamin, then a boy of sixteen, as- 
tute from his cradle, contributed by stealth to the 
Couranf more or less; but slipped away to Phila- 
delphia without getting into trouble. 

These papers, doubtless, Portia sent regularly to 
her John, who received them as often as Fate or 
the enemy allowed. 

Now and then Mrs. Adams took her chaise and 
went into town to make some visits in Boston or 
Cambridge. 

"Present my compliments to Mr. Dana," she 
writes. "Tell him I have called upon his lady, and 
we enjoyed an afternoon of sweet communion. I 
find she would not be averse to taking a voyage, 
should he be continued abroad. She groans most 
bitterly, and is irreconcilable to his absence. I am 
a mere philosopher to her. I am inured, but not 
hardened, to the painful portion. Shall I live to 
see it otherwise?** 

This was written in July, 1780. We may fancy 
Madam Abigail setting out on this expedition, 
stately and demure in hoop petticoat and high-heeled 
shoes. We cannot be sure whether she wore a Leg- 
horn hat or a calash. Here I pause for a mo- 
ment; I remember a calash, in my childhood. It 
was made of thin green silk, shirred on pieces of 



MR. ADAMS ABROAD 185 

rattan or whalebone, placed two or three inches 
apart. These were drawn together at the back by 
a cape, and thus, bent into hoop-shape, could be 
drawn so far over the face as to cover it entirely. 
The ''bashful bonnet," the thing was called; cer- 
tainly, no headdress ever was uglier, but it must 
have been "matchless for the complexion," as 
Madam Patti says of a certain well-known soap. 

On the whole, knowing what the calash looked 
like, I should prefer to think that Madam Abigail 
wore a Leghorn hat over her fine dark hair. Leg- 
horns were costly. I have heard of their costing 
twenty-five or even fifty dollars : but they lasted 
for years and years. It was not till some years 
after this that American women began to make 
their own bonnet straw. It became the rage, both 
here and in England, and women vied with each 
other in the amount and quality of their "straw- 
work." Hats and bonnets were not enough ; women 
wore "straw-coats" or paillasses; these were made 
of "sarcenet, calico, or linen, and ornamented pro- 
fusely with straw." A writer in the European 
Magazine exclaims : 

"Straw! straw! everything is ornamented in 
straw, from the cap to the shoe-buckles; Ceres is 
the favorite, not only of the female but the male 



l86 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

part of the fashionable world, for the gentlemen's 
waistcoats are ribbed with straw." 

Here is a long digression; let us hope that Mrs. 
Dana gave Mrs. Adams a good dish of tea and 
that she went home refreshed. 

There are but few letters of 1780: probably many 
were lost. In October Mrs. Adams again quotes 
the current prices, for which her husband frequently 
asks. 

"You tell me to send you prices current. I will 
aim at it. Corn is now thirty pounds, rye twenty- 
seven, per bushel. Flour from a hundred and forty 
to a hundred and thirty per hundred. Beef, eight 
dollars per pound; mutton, nine; lamb, six, seven, 
and eight. Butter, twelve dollars per pound ; cheese, 
ten. Sheep's wool, thirty dollars per pound; flax, 
twenty. West India articles : sugar, from a hun- 
dred and seventy to two hundred pounds per hun- 
dred; molasses, forty-eight dollars per gallon; tea, 
ninety ; coffee, twelve ; cotton-wool, thirty per pound. 
Exchange "from seventy to seventy-five for hard 
money. Bills at fifty. Money scarce; plenty of 
goods ; enormous taxes." 

And what were young John and Charles doing, 
far from home and mother? They were studying, 
and improving themselves in every proper way. In 



MR. ADAMS ABROAD 187 

December, 1780, they were sent to Leyden, which 
Mr. Adams thinks "perhaps as learned a University 
as any in Europe." He notes in his diary of Jan- 
nary, 1 78 1, "John is transcribing a Greek Gram- 
mar ... of his master's composition, and Charles 
a Latin one; John is also transcribing a treatise 
on Roman antiquities. . . . After dinner they went 
to the Rector Magnificus to be matriculated into 
the University ; Charles was found to be too young, 
none under twelve years of age being admitted; 
John was admitted after making a declaration that 
he would do nothing against the laws of the uni- 
versity, city, or land." 

I have to exercise stern self-control to keep from 
quoting too much from Mr. Adams' diary: after 
all, it is his wife's story that I am trying to tell. 
Yet — surely never were husband and wife more 
entirely one — I must indulge myself, and my read- 
ers, with his account of the Royal Family of France 
at supper. He did not admire Queen Marie Antoin- 
ette as much as Edmund Burke did, and does not 
scruple to say so. 

"She was an object too sublime and beautiful for 
my dull pen to describe. I leave this enterprise to 
Mr. Burke. But, in his description, there is more 
of the orator than of the philosopher. Her dress 



i88 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

was every thing that art and wealth could make it. 
One of the maids of honor told me she had dia- 
monds upon her person to the value of eighteen 
millions of livres; and I always thought her ma- 
jesty much beholden to her dress. Mr. Burke saw 
her probably but once. I have seen her fifty times 
perhaps, and in all the varieties of her dresses. She 
had a fine complexion, indicating perfect health, 
and was a handsome woman in her face and figure. 
But I have seen beauties much superior, both in 
countenance and form, in France, England, and 
America." 

He goes on to describe the spectacle of the grand 
convert: 

*'I was selected, and summoned indeed, from 
all my company, and ordered to a seat close beside 
the royal family. The seats on both sides of the 
hall, arranged like the seats in a theatre, were all 
full of ladies of the first rank and fashion in the 
kingdom, and there was no room or place for me 
but in the midst of them. It was not easy to make 
room, for one more person. However, room was 
made, and I was situated between two ladies, with 
rows and ranks of ladies above and below me, and 
on the right hand and on the left, and ladies only. 
My dress was a decent French dress, becoming the 




John Adams 
Painted by Gilbert Stuart 



MR. ADAMS ABROAD 189 

station I held, but not to be compared with the 
gold, and diamonds, and embroidery, about me. 
I could neither speak, nor understand the language 
in a manner to support a conversation, but I had 
soon the satisfaction to find it was a silent meeting, 
and that nobody spoke a word, but the royal family, 
to each other, and they said very little. The eyes 
of all the assembly were turned upon me, and I 
felt sufficiently humble and mortified, for I was not 
a proper object for the criticisms of such a com- 
pany I found myself gazed at, as we in America 
used to gaze at the sachems who came to make 
speeches to us in Congress, but I thought it very 
hard if I could not command as much power of 
face as one of the chiefs of the Six Nations, and, 
therefore, determined that I would assume a cheer- 
ful countenance, enjoy the scene around me, and 
observe it as coolly as an astronomer contemplates 
the stars. . . . The king was the royal carver for 
himself and all his family. His majesty ate like a 
king, and made a royal supper of solid beef, and 
other things in proportion. The queen took a large 
spoonful of soup, and displayed her fine person and 
graceful manners, in alternately looking at the com- 
pany in various parts of the hall, and ordering sev- 
eral kinds of seasoning to be brought to her, by 



190 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

which she fitted her supper to her taste. When this 
was accomplished, her majesty exhibited to the ad- 
miring spectators, the magnificent spectacle of a 
great queen swallowing her royal supper in a single 
spoonful all at once. This was all performed like 
perfect clock work; not a feature of her face, nor 
a motion of any part of her person, especially her 
arm and her hand, could be criticized as out of or- 
der. A little, and but a little, conversation seemed 
to pass among the royal personages of both sexes, 
but in so low a voice, that nothing could be under- 
stood by any of the audience. 

"The officers about the king's person brought him 
many letters and papers, from time to time, while 
he was at table. He looked at these. Some of them 
he read, or seemed to read, and returned them to 
the same officers who brought them, or some others. 

"These ceremonies and shows may be condemned 
by philosophy and ridiculed by comedy, with great 
reason. Yet the common sense of mankind has 
never adopted the rigid decrees of the former, nor 
ever sincerely laughed with the latter. Nor has 
the religion of nations, in any age, approved of 
the dogmas or the satires. On the contrary, it has 
always overborne them all, and carried its inven- 
tions of such exhibitions to a degree of sublimity 



MR. ADAMS ABROAD 191 

and pathos, which has frequently transported the 
greatest infidels out of themselves. Something of 
the kind every government and every religion has, 
and must have; and the business and duty of law- 
givers and philosophers is to endeavor to prevent 
them from being carried too far." 
I Mr. Adams is full of anxieties : 

"I am sorry to learn you have a sum of paper. 
How could you be so imprudent? You must be 
frugal, I assure you. Your children will be poorly 
off. I can but barely live in the manner that is in- 
dispensably demanded of me by everybody. Living 
is dear indeed here. My children will not be so 
well left by their father as he was by his. They 
will be infected with the examples and habits and 
tastes for expensive living without the means. He 
was not. My children shall never have the smallest 
soil of dishonor or disgrace brought upon them 
by their father, no, not to please ministers, kings, or 
nations. At the expense of a little of this, my chil- 
dren might perhaps ride at their ease through life, 
but dearly as I love them, they shall live in the serv- 
ice of their country, in her navy, her army, or even 
out of either in the extremest degree of poverty, 
before I will depart in the smallest iota from my 
sentiments of honor and deHcacy; for I, even I, 



192 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

have sentiments of delicacy as exquisite as the 
proudest minister that ever served a monarch: They 
may not be exactly like those of some ministers. . . . 

"General Washington has done me great honor 
and much public service by sending me authentic 
accounts of his own and General Greene's last great 
actions. They are in the way to negotiate peace. 
It lies wholly with them. No other ministers but 
they and their colleagues in the army can accom- 
plish the great event. 

"I am keeping house, but I want a housekeeper. 
What a fine affair it would be, if we could flit 
across the Atlantic as they say the angels do from 
planet to planet! I would dart to Penn's Hill and 
bring you over on my wings; but, alas, we must 
keep house separately for some time. But one thing 
I am determined on. If God should please to re- 
store me once more to your fireside, I will never 
again leave it without your ladyship's company — 
no, not even to go to Congress to Philadelphia, and 
there I am determined to go, if I can make interest 
enough to get chosen, whenever I return. I would 
give a million sterling that you were here; and I 
could afford it as well as Great Britain can the 
thirty millions she must spend, the ensuing year, to 
complete her own ruin. Farewell, farewell." 



MR. ADAMS ABROAD 193 

I like to picture John Adams as he wrote those 
words : sitting erect at his desk, his chin up, his eyes 
flashing. So, I fancy, he may have looked, in his 
"decent French dress" in the crowd of court ladies, 
that evening at Versailles. 

More and more as time went on, did the two 
friends long for each other. I say "friends," be- 
cause it is their own word ; most of the letters begin 
with it. Abigail writes: 

"My dearest Friend^ — The family are all re- 
tired to rest; the busy scenes of the day are over; 
a day which I wished to have devoted in a particu- 
lar manner to my dearest friend ; but company fall- 
ing in prevented it, nor could I claim a moment until 
this silent watch of the night. 

"Look (is there a dearer name than friend? 
Think of it for me), look to the date of this letter, 
and tell me what are the thoughts which arise in 
your mind. Do you not recollect that eighteen years 
have run their circuit since we pledged our mutual 
faith to each other, and the hymeneal torch was 
lighted at the altar of Love? Yet, yet it burns with 
unabating fervor. Old Ocean has not quenched it, 
nor old Time smothered it in this bosom. It cheers 
me in the lonely hour; it comforts me even in the 
gloom which sometimes possesses my mind.'* 



194 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

She begs to be allowed to join him in Europe. 

"I have repeatedly expressed my desire to make 
a part of your family. But Will you come and 
see me?' cannot be taken in that serious light I 
should choose to consider an invitation from those 
I love. I do not doubt but that you vi^ould be glad 
to see me, but I know you are apprehensive of dan- 
gers and fatigues. I know your situation may be 
unsettled, and it may be more permanent than I 
wish it. Only think how the words, 'three, four, 
and five years' absence,' sound ! They sink into my 
heart with a weight I cannot express. Do you look 
like the miniature you sent? I cannot think so. 
But you have a better likeness, I am told. Is that 
designed for me? Gracious Heavens! restore to 
me the original, and I care not who has the 
shadow." 

John was fully convinced that Portia would not 
Hke Paris, and that it would not agree with her 
or the children. "It would be most for the happi- 
ness of my family," he says, "and most for the 
honor of our country, that I should come home. 
I have, therefore, this day written to Congress a 
resignation of all my employments, and as soon as 
I shall receive their acceptance of it, I will em- 
bark for America, which will be in the spring or 



MR. ADAMS ABROAD 195 

beginning of summer. Our son is now on his jour- 
ney from Petersburg, through Sweden, Denmark, 
and Germany, and if it please God he come safe, 
he shall come with me, and I pray we may all meet 
once more, you and I never to separate again." 
\^lt was about this time that "a person" asked Mrs. 
Adams, '*If you had known that Mr. Adams should 
have remained so long abroad, would you have con- 
sented that he should have gone?" 

*'I recollected myself a moment," says Portia, 
''and then spoke the real dictates of my heart: *If 
I had known, sir, that Mr. Adams could have ef- 
fected what he has done, I would not only have 
submitted to the absence I have endured, painful as 
it has been, but I would not have opposed it, even 
though three years more should be added to the 
number (which Heaven avert!). I feel a pleasure 
in being able to sacrifice my selfish passions to the 
general good, and in imitating the example which 
has taught me to consider myself and family but as 
the small dust of the balance, when compared with 
the great community.' " 

And now the Icng separation was to end. In De- 
cember, 1782, Mr. Adams writes: 

"Whether there should be peace or war, I shall 
come home in the summer. As soon as I shall re- 



196 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

ceive from Congress their acceptance of the resig- 
nation of all my employments, which I have trans- 
mitted many ways, I shall embark, and you may de- 
pend upon a good domestic husband for the re- 
mainder of my life, if it is the will of Heaven that 
I should once more meet you. My promises are not 
lightly made with anybody. I have never broken 
one made to you, and I will not begin at this time 
of life. 

"My children, I hope, will once at length discover 
that they have a father who is not unmindful of 
their welfare. They have had too much reason 
to think themselves forgotten, although I know that 
an anxiety for their happiness has corroded me 
every day of my life. 

"With a tenderness which words cannot express, 
I am theirs and yours forever." 

The war was over; the child Independence had 
grown to full stature, and the Republic took her 
place among the nations. On the 21st of January, 
1783, articles of peace were drawn up between 
Great Britain, France, and the United States. 



CHAPTER X 
THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 

NOT yet, Abigail! The treaty of peace was 
signed on the 21st of January, 1783; but 
Congress refused to John Adams the leisure he had 
so amply earned, and so ardently desired. A treaty 
of commerce must be established between Great 
Britain and the United States, and he, with Ben- 
jamin Franklin and John Jay, must make it. The 
faithful patriot accepted the new charge without 
hesitation, but this time his body rebelled. He fell 
dangerously ill of a fever, brought on by anxiety 
and over-work. For some days his life hung in 
the balance: but he could not die then. His work 
was not done. Barely recovered, while still weak 
and suffering, he hastened to London, to take up 
the new task. This accomplished, another waited 
him. Orders came for him to go at once to Hol- 
land, to obtain a loan for the new Republic. This, 
he felt, might well be the last straw for him; yet 
he did not falter. 

197 



198 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

"It was winter. My health was very delicate. 
A journey and voyage to Holland at that season 
would very probably put an end to my labors. I 
scarcely saw a possibility of surviving it. Never- 
theless, no man knows what he can bear till he 
tries. A few moment's reflection determined me ; 
for although I had little hope of getting the money, 
having experienced so many difficulties before, yet 
making the attempt and doing all in my power 
would discharge my own conscience, and ought to 
satisfy my responsibility to the public.'' 

Here follows a detailed account of the trip, which 
I exercise much self-control not to quote. He adds : 

"I had ridden on horseback often to Congress, 
over roads and across ferries, of which the pres- 
ent generation have no idea; and once, in 1777, in 
the dead of winter, from Braintree to Baltimore, 
five hundred miles, upon a trotting horse, as Dean 
Swift boasted that he had done or could do. I 
had been three days in the Gulf Stream, in 1778, 
in a furious hurricane and a storm of thunder and 
lightning, which struck down our men upon deck, 
and cracked our mainmast ; when the oldest officers 
and stoutest seamen stood aghast, at their last pray- 
ers, dreading every moment that a butt would start, 
and all perish. I had crossed the Atlantic, in 1779, 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 19^ 

in a leaky ship, with perhaps four hundred men on 
board, who were scarcely able, with two large 
pumps going all the twenty-four hours, to keep 
water from filling the hold, in hourly danger, for 
twenty days together, of foundering at sea. I had 
passed the mountains in Spain, in the winter, among 
ice and snow, partly on mule-back and partly on 
foot; yet I never suffered so much in any of these 
situations as in that jaunt from Bath to Amster- 
dam, in January, 1784. Nor did any of those ad- 
ventures ever do such lasting injuries to my health. 
I never got over it till my return home, in 1788.** 

Still the tasks multiplied; still the Hills of Diffi- 
culty rose before the devoted statesman. Finally, 
in the summer of 1784, seeing his return home in- 
definitely postponed, he dismissed his anxieties and 
summoned his faithful Portia to his side. She sailed 
on the 20th of June, on the ship Active, 

It was her first voyage, and she did not enjoy 
it. There are no more letters to her "dearest friend" ; 
the faithful pair were not to be separated again for 
any length of time; but she writes a little every 
day to her sister, Mrs. Cranch, and does full jus- 
tice to the discomforts of life in a small sailing 
vessel. 

"Of this I am very sure, that no lady would ever 



200 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

wish a second time to try the sea, were the objects 
of her pursuit within the reach of a land journey. 
I have had frequent occasion, since I came on board, 
to recollect an observation of my best friend's, 'that 
no being in nature was so disagreeable as a lady at 
sea,' and this recollection has in a great measure re- 
conciled me to the thought of being at sea without 
him ; for one would not wish, my dear sister, to be 
thought of in that light by those, to whom we would 
wish to appear in our best array. The decency and 
decorum of the most delicate female must in some 
measure yield to the necessities of nature; and, if 
you have no female capable of rendering you the 
least assistance, you will feel grateful to any one 
who will feel for you, and relieve or compassionate 
your sufferings." 

She was woefully seasick at first, poor lady. Af- 
ter a time she felt better and writes : "The ship has 
gradually become less irksome to me. If our cook 
was but tolerably clean, I could relish my food. But 
lie is a great, dirty, lazy negro, with no more knowl- 
edge of cookery than a savage, nor any kind of 
order in the distribution of his dishes ; but on they 
come, higgledy-piggledy, with a leg of pork all 
bristly; a quarter of an hour after, a pudding, or 
perhaps, a pair of roast fowls, first of all, and then 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 201 

will follow one by one a piece of beef, and when 
dinner is nearly completed, a plate of potatoes. 
Such a fellow is a real imposition upon the pas- 
sengers. But gentlemen know but little about the 
matter, and if they can get enough to eat five times 
a day, all goes well. We ladies have not eaten, upon 
our whole passage, more than just enough to satisfy 
nature, or to keep body and soul together.'* 

Her first impression of England was more ex- 
citing than agreeable. Driving to London in a post 
chaise, *'from Chatham we proceeded on our way 
as fast as possible, wishing to pass Blackheath be- 
fore dark. Upon this road, a gentleman alone in a 
chaise passed us, and very soon a coach before us 
stopped, and there was a hue and cry, *A robbery, a 
robbery!' The man in the chaise was the person 
robbed, and this in open day with carriages con- 
stantly passing. We were not a little alarmed, and 
everyone was concealing his money. Every place 
we passed and every post chaise we met was crying 
out, 'A robbery!' Where the thing is so common, 
I was surprised to see such an alarm. The robber 
was pursued and taken in about two miles, and we 
saw the poor wretch, ghastly and horrible, brought 
along on foot: his horse ridden by a person who 
took him, who also had his pistol. He looked like 



202 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

a youth of twenty only, attempting to lift his hat, 
and looked despair. You can form some idea of 
my feelings when they told him, 'Ay, you have but 
a short time ; the assize sits next month ; and then, 
my lad, you swing.' Though every robber may de- 
serve death, yet to exult over the wretched is what 
our country is not accustomed to. Long may it be 
free from such villanies, and long may it preserve 
a commiseration for the wretched." 

' At last she found herself in London, at Osborne^s 
new family hotel, *'Adelphi," where rooms had been 
engaged for her. Mr. Adams was at the Hague, 
detained by public business ; Portia must be patient 
as she might. 

*'Here we have," she writes, "a handsome draw- 
ing-room, genteelly furnished, and a large lodging- 
room. We are furnished with a cook, chamber- 
maid, waiter, etc., for three guineas a week; but in 
this is not included a mouthful of victuals or drink, 
all of which is to be paid for separately." 

There was now little leisure for writing, for call- 
ers came thick and fast. Mr. This, Mrs. That, Dr. 
the Other, all thronged to pay their respects. Many 
of these were former friends and neighbors of the 
Tory persuasion, living in more or less willing ex- 
ile. 'T hardly know how to think myself out of my 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 203 

own country, I see so many Americans about me." 
She knows that her sister will desire news of the 
fashions. 

"1 am not a little surprised to find dress, unless 
upon public occasion, so little regarded here. The 
gentlemen are very plainly dressed, and the ladies 
much less so than with us. 'Tis true, you must put 
a hoop on and have your hair dressed, but a com« 
mon straw hat, no cap, with only a ribbon upon the 
crown, is thought sufficient to go into company. 
Muslins are much in taste; no silks but lutestrings 
worn; but send not to London for any article you 
want; you may purchase any thing you can name 
much lower in Boston. . . . Our country, alas ! our 
country! they are extravagant to astonishment in 
entertainments compared with what Mr. Smith and 
Mr. Storer tell me of this. You will not find at a 
gentleman's table more than two dishes of meat,, 
though invited several days beforehand. ... At. 
my lodgings I am as quiet as at any place in Bos-^ 
ton; nor do I feel as if it could be any other place 
than Boston; Dr. Clark visits us every day; says. 
he cannot feel at home anywhere else; declares he 
has not seen a handsome woman since he came into 
the city; that every old woman looks like Mrs. 
H , and every young one like — like the D — L 



:204 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

They paint here nearly as much as in France, but 
with more art. The head-dress disfigures them in 
the eye of an American. I have seen many ladies, 
but not one elegant one since I came; there is not 
to me that neatness in their appearance, which you 
see in our ladies. 

'The American ladies are much admired here by 
the gentlemen, I am told, and in truth I wonder not 
at it. O, my country, my country! preserve, pre- 
serve the little purity and simplicity of manners you 
yet possess. Believe me, they are jewels of ines- 
timable value ; the softness, peculiarly characteristic 
of our sex, and which is so pleasing to the gentle- 
men, is wholly laid aside here for the masculine at- 
tire and manners of Amazonians." 

A few days later, she describes one of the nu- 
merous dinners to which she was invited. 

"After we had dined, which was in company with 
five American gentlemen, we retired to the drawing 
room, and there I talked off the lady's reserve, and 
she appeared agreeable. Her dress pleased me, and 
answered to the universal neatness of the apart- 
ments, furniture, and entertainment. It was a deli- 
cate blue and white copper-plate calico, with a blue 
lutestring skirt, flounced ; a muslin apron and hand- 
kerchief, which are much more worn than gauze; 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 205 

her hair, a fine black, dressed without powder, with 
a fashionable cap, and straw ribbons upon her head 
and breast, with a green morocco slipper. Our din- 
ner consisted of fried fish of a small kind, a boiled 
ham, a fillet of veal, a pair of roast ducks, an almond 
pudding, currants and gooseberries, which in this 
country are very fine. Painted muslin is much worn 
here; a straw hat with a deep crown, lined, and a 
white, green, or any colored ribbon you choose.*' 

The visitors came and went, and Mrs. Adams 
received them graciously, and returned their visits, 
and wrote to sisters and nieces ; but all the time her 
heart was in Holland, and she found the days long- 
and weary that kept her friend from her. At last, 
— at long, long last — the Great Day came. On 
August 7th, Mr. Adams writes in his diary : 

"Arrived at the Adelphi Buildings (London) and 
met my wife and daughter, after a separation of 
four years and a half ; indeed, after a separation of 
ten years, excepting a few visits. Set ofif the next 
day for Paris." 

September, 1784, found the Adamses settled at 
Auteuil, four miles from Paris, in much content- 
ment, after the long years of separation. Mrs. 
Adams writes to her sister, Mrs. Cranch : 

"The house is much larger than we have need 



.206 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

of: upon occasion, forty beds may be made in it. 
I fancy it must be very cold in winter. There are 
few houses with the privilege which this enjoys, 
that of having the saloon, as it is called, the apart- 
ment where we receive company, upon the first 
floor. This room is very elegant, and about a third 
larger than General Warren's hall. . . . But with 
an expense of thirty thousand livres in looking- 
glasses there is no table in the house better than 
an oak board, nor a carpet belonging to the house. 
The floors I abhor, made of red tiles in the shape 
of Mrs. Quincy's floor-cloth tiles. These floors will 
by no means bear water, so that the method of clean- 
ing them is to have them waxed, and then a man- 
servant with foot brushes drives round your room 
dancing here and there like a Merry Andrew. This 
is calculated to take from your foot every atom of 
dirt, and leave the room in a few moments as he 
found it. The dining-rooms, of which you make no 
other use, are laid with small stones, like the red 
tiles for shape and size. The servants' apartments 
are generally upon the first floor, and the stairs 
which you commonly have to ascend to get into the 
family apartments are so dirty, that I have been 
obliged to hold up my clothes, as though I was 
passing through a cow-yard." 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 207 

She finds living in Paris very expensive; more- 
over, some of the expenses seem to her republican 
mind unreasonable. "There is nov^ a Court mourn- 
ing, and every foreign minister, with his family, 
must go into mourning for a Prince of eight years 
old, whose father is an ally to the King of France. 
This mourning is ordered by the Court, and is to be 
worn for eleven days only. Poor Mr. Jefferson 
had to hie away for a tailor to get a whole black 
silk suit made up in two days; and at the end of 
eleven days, should another death happen, he will 
be obliged to have a new suit of mourning, of cloth, 
because that is the season when silk must be left 
off. We may groan and scold, but these are ex- 
penses which cannot be avoided ; for fashion is the 
deity everyone worships in this country, and, from 
the highest to the lowest, you must submit.*' 

In a letter to her niece, Betsey Cranch, she de- 
scribes the house in greater detail, and dwells with 
delight on the beauty of the garden. ''But Paris, 
you must not ask me how I like it, because I am 
going to tell you of the pretty little apartment next 
to this in which I am writing. Why, my dear, you 
cannot turn yourself in it without being multiplied 
twenty times; now that I do not like, for being 
rather clumsy, and by no means an elegant figure, 



2o8 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

I hate to have it so often repeated to me. This room 
is about ten or twelve feet large, is eight-cornered 
and panelled with looking-glasses ; a red and white 
India patch, with pretty borders encompasses it ; low 
back stuffed chairs with garlands of flowers en- 
circling them, adorn this little chamber ; festoons of 
flowers are round all the glasses; a lustre hangs 
from the ceiling adorned with flowers; a beautiful 
sofa is placed in a kind of alcove, with pillows and 
cushions in abundance, the use of which I have not 
yet investigated ; in the top of this alcove, over the 
sofa in the ceiling is another glass ; here is a beau- 
tiful chimney piece, with an elegant painting of 
rural life in a country farm-house, lads and lasses 
jovial and happy. This little apartment opens into 
your cousin's bed-chamber; it has a most pleasing 
view of the garden, and it is that view which al- 
ways brings my dear Betsey to my mind, and makes 
me long for her to enjoy the delights of it with me." 
Mrs. Adams certainly did not like Paris. "They 
tell me I am no judge, for that I have not seen it yet. 
One thing I know, and that is that I have smelt 
it. . . . It is the very dirtiest place I ever saw. . . . 
Boston cannot boast so elegant public buildings; 
but, in every other respect, it is as much superior 
in my eyes to Paris, as London is to Boston.*' 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 209 

It is hard to choose among these sprightly letters, 
so full of color and gayety. Here is an account 
of the Marquise de Lafayette, written to Mrs. 
Cranch : 

"The Marquise met me at the door, and with 
the freedom of an old acquaintance, and the rap- 
ture peculiar to the ladies of this nation, caught me 
by the hand and gave me a salute upon each cheek, 
most heartily rejoiced to see me. You would have 
supposed I had been some long absent friend, whom 
she dearly loved. She presented me to her mother 
and sister, who were present with her, all sitting 
together in her bed-room, quite en famille. One 
of the ladies was knitting. The Marquise herself 
was in a chintz gown. She is a middle-sized lady, 
sprightly and agreeable; and professes herself 
strongly attached to Americans. She supports an 
amiable character, is fond of her children, and very 
attentive to them, which is not the general character 
of ladies of high rank in Europe. In a few days, 
she returned my visit, upon which we sent her a 
card of invitation to dine. She came; we had a 
large company. There is not a lady in our country, 
who would have gone abroad to dine so little 
dressed; and one of our fine American ladies, who 
sat by me, whispered to me, *Good Heavens! how 



210 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

awfully she is dressed.' I could not forbear return- 
ing the whisper, which I most sincerely despised, by 
replying that the lady's rank sets her above the 
little formalities of dress. She had on a Brown 
Florence gown and petticoat, — which is the only 
silk, excepting satins, which are worn here in win- 
ter — a plain double gauze handkerchief, a pretty 
cap with a white ribbon in it, and looked very neat. 
The rouge, 'tis true, was not so artfully laid on, as 
upon the faces of the American ladies who were 
present. Whilst they were glittering with dia- 
monds, watch-chains, girdle-buckles, etc., the Mar- 
quise was nowise ruffled by her own different ap- 
pearance. A really well-bred French lady has the 
most ease in her manners, that you can possibly 
conceive of. It is studied by them as an art, and 
they render it nature. It requires some time, you 
know, before any fashion quite new becomes fa- 
miliar to us. The dress of the French ladies has 
the most taste and variety in it, of any I have yet 
seen; but these are topics I must reserve to amuse 
my young acquaintance with. I have seen none, 
however, who carry the extravagance of dress to 
such a height as the Americans who are here, some 
of whom, I have reason to think, live at an expense 
double what is allowed to the American ministers. 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 211 

They must however, abide the consequences." 
The months spent in France proved interesting 
enough When in May, 1785, Mr. Adams was ap- 
pointed United States Minister Plenipotentiary to 
Great Britain, his wife had some things to regret, 
though more to anticipate. *'DeHghtful and bloom- 
ing garden, how much I shall regret your loss ! . . . 
It will not be easy to find in the midst of a city 
so charming a scene.'* 

But Paris was soon forgotten in the excitement 
of the London season. London was very full this 
May and June. The Adamses had hard work to 
find a house, but were finally established in lodgings 
"at the moderate price of a guinea per day, for 
two rooms and two chambers at the Bath Hotel, 
Westminster, Piccadilly." 

The first great event was the presentation to 
Royalty, first of Mr. Adams in private, then of the 
family, in pubHc. Mrs. Adams notes rather ruefully 
that *'one is obliged here to attend the circles of 
the Queen, which are held in summer once a fort- 
night, but once a week the rest of the year; and 
what renders it exceedingly expensive is, that you 
cannot go twice the same season in the same dress, 
and a Court dress you cannot make use of any- 
where else." This was hard indeed for people of 



212 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

moderate means and simple tastes; but as usual, 
Mrs. Adams was mistress of the emergency. 

*'I directed my mantuamaker to let my dress be 
elegant, but plain as I could possibly appear, with 
decency ; accordingly, it is white lutestring, covered 
and full trimmed with white crape, festooned with 
lilac ribbon and mock point lace, over a hoop of 
enormous extent; there is only a narrow train of 
about three yards in length to the gown waist, which 
is put into a ribbon upon the left side, the Queen 
only having her train borne. Ruffle cuffs for mar- 
ried ladies, treble lace ruffles, a very dress cap 
with long lace lappets, two white plumes, and a 
blonde lace handkerchief. This is my rigging. I 
should have mentioned two pearl pins in my hair, 
ear-rings and necklace of the same kind.'' 

On the day of the festivities she writes: "My 
head is dressed for St. James's, and in my opinion, 
looks very tasty. Whilst my daughter's is under- 
going the same operation, I set myself down com- 
posedly to write you a few lines. *Well,' methinks 
I hear Betsey and Lucy say, 'what is cousin's dress ?' 
White, my dear girls, like your aunt's, only differ- 
ently trimmed and ornamented; her train being 
wholly of white crape, and trimmed with white rib- 
bon ; the petticoat, which is the most showy part of 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 213 

the dress, covered and drawn up in what are called 
festoons, with light wreaths of beautiful flowers; 
the sleeves white crape, drawn over the silk, with 
a row of lace round the sleeve near the shoulder, 
another half way down the arm, and a third upon 
the top of the ruffle, a little flower stuck between; 
a kind of hat-cap, with three large feathers and 
a bunch of flowers; a wreath of flowers upon the 
hair. Thus equipped, we go in our own carriage, 
and Mr. Adams and Colonel Smith in his. But I 
must quit my pen to put myself in order for the 
ceremony, which begins at two o'clock. When I 
return, I will relate to you my reception ; but do not 
let it circulate, as there may be persons eager to 
catch at every thing, and as much given to misrepre- 
sentation as here. I would gladly be excused the 
ceremony." 

The next day she thus continues : "Congratulate 
me, my dear sister, it is over. I was too much fa- 
tigued to write a line last evening. At two o'clock 
we went to the circle, which is in the drawing-room 
of the Queen. We passed through several apart- 
ments, lined as usual with spectators upon these 
occasions. . . . We were placed in a circle round 
the drawing-room, which was very full. I believe 
two hundred persons present. Only think of the 



214 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

task ! The royal family have to go round to every 
person, and find small talk enough to speak to all 
of them, though they very prudently speak in a 
whisper, so that only the person who stands next 
you can hear what is said. The King enters the 
room, and goes round to the right; the Queen and 
Princesses to the left. The lord-in- waiting pre- 
sents you to the King ; and the lady-in-waiting does 
the same to her Majesty. The King is a person- 
able man, but, my dear sister, he has a certain coun- 
tenance, which you and I have often remarked; a 
red face and white eyebrows. The Queen has a 
similar countenance, and the numerous royal fam- 
ily confirm the observation. Persons are not placed 
according to their rank in the drawing-room, but 
promiscuously; and when the King comes in, he 
takes persons as they stand. When he came to me, 
Lord Onslow said, 'Mrs. Adams'; upon which I 
drew off my right-hand glove, and his Majesty sa- 
luted my left cheek; then asked me if I had taken 
a walk today. I could have told his Majesty that 
I had been all the morning preparing to wait upon 
him; but I replied, 'No, Sire.' 'Why, don't you 
love walking?' says he. I answered, that I was 
rather indolent in that respect. He then bowed and 
passed on. It was more than two hours after this 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 215 

before it came to my turn to be presented to the 
Queen. The circle was so large that the company 
were four hours standing. The Queen was evi~ 
dently embarrassed when I was presented to her. I 
had disagreeable feelings, too. She, however, said^ 
'Mrs. Adams, have you got into your house ? Pray, 
how do you like the situation of it?' Whilst the 
Princess Royal looked compassionate, and asked me 
if I was not much fatigued; and observed, that it 
was a very full drawing-room. Her sister, who 
came next. Princess Augusta, after having asked 
your niece if she was ever in England before, and 
her answering, *Yes,' inquired of me how long ago^ 
and supposed it was when she was very young. 
And all this is said with much affability, and the 
ease and freedom of old acquaintance. The man- 
ner in which the}^ make their tour round the room 
is, first, the Queen, the lady-in-waiting behind her, 
holding up her train; next to her, the Princess 
Royal ; after her, Princess Augusta, and their lady- 
in-waiting behind them. They are pretty, rather 
than beautiful, well shaped, with fair complexions, 
and a tincture of the King's countenance. The two 
sisters look much alike; they were both dressed in 
black and silver silk, with a silver netting upon the 
coat, and their heads full of diamond pins. The 



2i6 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

Queen was in purple and silver. She is not well 
shaped nor handsome. As to the ladies of the 
Court, rank and title may compensate for want of 
personal charms; but they are, in general, very 
plain, ill-shaped, and ugly; but don't tell anybody 
that I say so.'' 

Mrs. Adams did not enjoy Court occasions. *'l 
know," she says to Sister Mary, "I am looked down 
upon with a sovereign pride, and the smile of roy- 
alty is bestowed as a mighty boon. As such, how- 
ever, I cannot receive it. I know it is due to my 
country, and I consider myself as complimenting 
the power before which I appear as much as I am 
complimented by being noticed by it. With these 
ideas, you may be sure my countenance will never 
wear that suppliant appearance, which begs for no- 
tice. Consequently I never expect to be a Court 
favorite. Nor would I ever again set my foot there, 
if the etiquette of my country did not require it. 
But, whilst I am in a public character, I must sub- 
mit to the penalty; for such I shall ever esteem it." 

In the same letter she describes one of the 
Queen's *drawing-rooms.' 

*The company were very brilliant, and her Ma- 
jesty was stiff with diamonds; the three eldest 
Princesses and the Prince of Wales were present. 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 217 

His Highness looked much better than when I saw 
him before. He is a stout, well-made man, and 
would look very well if he had not sacrificed so 
much to Bacchus. The Princess Elizabeth I never 
saw before. She is about fifteen; a short, clumsy 
miss, and would not be thought handsome if she 
was not a princess. The whole family have one 
complexion, and all are inclined to be corpulent. I 
should know them in any part of the world. Not- 
withstanding the English boast so much of their 
beauties, I do not think they have really so much of 
it as you will find amongst the same proportion of 
people in America." 

Mrs. Siddons was then in her glory, and Abigail 
did not fail to see her, and to describe her to the 
sisterhood at home. This time it is Sister Shaw 
who hears how ''the first piece I saw her in was 
Shakespeare's 'Othello.* She was interesting be- 
yond any actress I had ever seen; but I lost much 
of the pleasure of the play, from the sooty appear- 
ance of the Moor. Perhaps it may be early preju- 
dice; but I could not separate the African color 
from the man, nor prevent that disgust and horror 
which filled my mind every time I saw him touch 
the gentle Desdemona; nor did I wonder that Bra- 
bantio thought some love potion or some witch- 



5i8 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

craft had been practised to make his daughter fall 
in love with what she scarcely dared look upon. 

**I have been more pleased with her since, in sev- 
■eral other characters, particularly in Matilda in 
The Carmelite,' a play which I send you for your 
amusement. Much of Shakespeare's language is so 
uncouth that it sounds very harsh. He has beau- 
ties which are not equalled; but I should suppose 
they might be rendered much more agreeable for 
the stage by alterations. I saw Mrs. Siddons a few 
evenings ago in 'Macbeth,' a play, you recollect, 
full of horror. She supported her part with great 
propriety; but she is too great to be put in so de- 
testable a character. . . . You must make as much 
interest here to get a box when she plays, as to get 
a place at Court; and they are usually obtained in 
the same way. It would be very difficult to find the 
thing in this country which money will not purchase, 
provided you can bribe high enough. 

''What adds much to the merit of Mrs. Siddons, 
is her virtuous character; slander itself never hav- 
ing slurred it. She is married to a man who bears 
a good character; but his name and importance 
are wholly swallowed up in her fame. She is the 
mother of five children; but from her looks you 
would not imagine her more than twenty-five years 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 219 

old. She is happy in having a brother who is one 
of the best tragic actors upon the stage, and always 
plays the capital parts with her; so that both her 
husband and the virtuous part of the audience can 
see them in the tenderest scenes without once fear- 
ing for their reputation." 

To Thomas Jefferson she wrote on June 6, 1785 : 

*T went last week to hear the music (Handel's) 
in Westminster. *The Messiah' was performed. It 
was sublime beyond description. I most sincerely 
wished for your presence, as your favorite passion, 
would have received the highest gratification. I 
should have sometimes fancied myself amongst a 
higher order of Beings if it had not been for a very 
troublesome female, who was unfortunately seated 
behind me ; and whose volubility not all the powers 
of music could still." 

Mrs. Adams was certainly an admirable corre- 
spondent; the long years of separation from her 
* 'dearest friend" had taught her how letters were 
longed for by those at home; and she writes with- 
out stint to sisters, nieces and friends. Here are 
two letters to Betsey and Lucy Cranch, describing: 
the ^ayeties of London : 

*T believe I once promised to give you an ac- 



220 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

count of that kind of visiting called a ladies' rout., 
There are two kinds; one where a lady sets apart 
a particular day in the week to see company. These 
are held only five months in the year, it being quite 
out of fashion to be seen in London during the 
summer. When a lady returns from the country 
she goes round and leaves a card with all her ac- 
quaintances, and then sends them an invitation to 
attend her routs during the season. The other kind 
is where a lady sends to you for certain evenings, 
and the cards are always addressed in her own 
name, both to gentlemen and ladies. The rooms 
are all set open, and card-tables set in each room, 
the lady of the house receiving her company at the 
door of the drawing-room, where a set number of 
courtesies are given and received with as much or- 
der as is necessary for a soldier who goes through 
the different evolutions of his exercise. The visitor 
then proceeds into the room without appearing to 
notice any other person, and takes her seat at the 
card table. 

Nor can the muse her aid impart. 
Unskilled in all the terms of art, 
Nor in harmonious numbers put 
The deal, the shuffle, and the cut; 
Go, Tom, and light the ladies up. 
It must be one before we sup. 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 221 

"At these parties it is usual for each lady to play 
a rubber, as it is termed, when you must lose or 
win a few guineas. To give each a fair chance, the 
lady then rises and gives her seat to another set. 
It is no unusual thing to have your rooms 
so crowded that not more than half the company 
can sit at once, yet this is called society and polite 
life. They treat their company with coffee, tea, 
lemonade, orgeat and cake. I know of but one agree- 
able circumstance attending these parties, which 
is, that you may go away when you please without 
disturbing anybody. I was early in the winter in- 
vited to Madame de Pinto's, the Portuguese min- 
ister's. I went accordingly. There were about two 
hundred persons present. I knew not a single lady 
but by sight, having met them at Court ; and it is an 
established rule, that though you were to meet as 
often as three nights in the week, never to speak 
together, or know each other, unless particularly 
introduced. I was, however, at no loss for conver- 
sation, Madame de Pinto being very polite, and the 
Foreign Ministers being the most of them present, 
who had dined with us, and to whom I had been 
early introduced. It being Sunday evening, I de- 
clined playing cards; indeed, I always get excused 
when I can. And Heavens forbid I should 



222 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 
catch the manner living as they rise. 

". . . At eight o'clock we returned home in order 
to dress ourselves for the ball at the French am- 
bassador's, to which we had received an invita- 
tion a fortnight before. He has been absent ever 
since our arrival here, till three weeks ago. He 
has a levee every Sunday evening, at which there 
are usually several hundred persons. The Hotel 
de France is beautifully situated, fronting St. 
James's Park, one end of the house standing upon 
Hyde Park. It is a most superb building. About 
half past nine, we went and found some company 
collected. Many very brilliant ladies of the first 
distinction were present. The dancing commenced 
about ten, and the rooms soon filled. The room 
which he had built for this purpose is large enough 
for five or six hundred persons. It is most ele- 
gantly decorated, hung with a gold tissue, orna- 
mented with twelve brilliant cut lustres, each con- 
tained twenty-four candles. At one end there are 
two large arches ; these were adorned with wreaths 
and bunches of artificial flowers upon the walls; in 
the alcoves were cornucopiae, loaded with oranges, 
sweetmeats, etc. Coffee, tea, lemonade, orgeat, etc., 
were taken here by every person who chose to go 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 223 

for them. There were covered seats all round the 
room for those who did not choose to dance. In 
the other rooms, card-tables, and a large faro-table, 
were set : this is a new kind of game, which is much 
practised here. Many of the company who did not 
dance, retired here to amuse themselves. . . .*' 

This was Betsey's letter : Lucy was to hear about 
the dresses : 

*To amuse you then, my dear niece, I will give 
you an account of the dress of the ladies at the 
ball of the Comte d'Adhemar; as your cousin tells 
me that she some time ago gave you a history of 
the birthday and ball at Court, this may serve as 
a counterpart. Though, should I attempt to com- 
pare the apartments, St. James's would fall as much 
short of the French Ambassador's as the Court of 
his Britannic Majesty does of the splendor and mag- 
nificence of that of his Most Christian Majesty. 
I am sure I never saw an assembly room in America, 
which did not exceed that at St. James's in point 
of elegance and decoration ; and, as to its fair visit- 
ors, not all their blaze of diamonds, set off with 
Parisian rouge, can match the blooming health, the 
sparkling eye, and modest deportment of the dear 
girls of my native land. As to the dancing, the 
space they had to move in gave them no opportunity 



224 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

to display the grace of a minuet, and the full dress 
of long court-trains and enormous hoops, you well 
know were not favorable for country dances, so 
that I saw them at every disadvantage; not so the 
other evening. They were much more properly 
clad : — silk waists, gauze or white or painted tiffany 
coats decorated with ribbon, beads, or flowers, as 
fancy directed, were chiefly worn by the young la- 
dies. Hats turned up at the sides with diamond 
loops and buttons of steel, large bows of ribbons 
and wreaths of flowers, displayed themselves to 
much advantage upon the heads of some of the pret- 
tiest girls England can boast. The light from the 
lustres is more favorable to beauty than daylight, 
and the color acquired by dancing, more becoming 
than rouge, as fancy dresses are more favorable 
to youth than the formality of a uniform. There 
was as great a variety of pretty dresses, borrowed 
wholly from France, as I have ever seen; and 
amongst the rest, some with sapphire-blue satin 
waists, spangled with silver, and laced down the 
back and seams with silver stripes; white satin 
petticoats trimmed with black and blue velvet 
ribbon ; an odd kind of head-dress, which they term 
the *helmet of Minerva.* I did not observe the bird 
of wisdom, however, nor do I know whether those 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 225 

who wore the dress had suitable pretensions to it. 
'And pray,' say you, *how were my aunt and cousin 
dressed?' If it will gratify you to know, you shall 
hear. Your aunt then wore a full-dress court cap 
without the lappets, in which was a wreath of white 
flowers, and blue sheafs, two black and blue flat 
feathers (which cost her half a guinea a-piece, but 
that you need not tell of), three pearl pins, bought 
for Court, and a pair of pearl ear-rings, the cost of 
them — no matter what; no less than diamonds, 
however. A sapphire blue demi-saison with a satin 
stripe, sack and petticoat trimmed with a broad 
black lace ; crape flounce, etc. ; leaves made of blue 
ribbon, and trimmed with white floss; wreaths of 
black velvet ribbon spotted with steel beads, which 
are much in fashion, and brought to such perfection 
as to resemble diamonds; white ribbon also in the 
Vandyke style, made up the trimming, which 
looked very elegant; a full dress handkerchief, and 
a bouquet of roses. *Full gay, I think, for my aunt/ 
That is true, Lucy, but nobody is old in Europe. I 
was seated next the Duchess of Bedford, who had 
a scarlet satin sack and coat, with a cushion full of 
diamonds, for hair she has none, and is hut seventy- 
six, neither. Well, now for your cousin; a small, 
white Leghorn hat, bound with pink satin ribbon; 



226 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

a steel buckle and band which turned up at the side, 
and confined a large pink bow; large bow of the 
same kind of ribbon behind; a wreath of full-blown 
roses round the crown, and another of buds and 
roses withinside the hat, which being placed at the 
back of the hair brought the roses to the edge ; you 
see it clearly; one red and black feather with two 
white ones, completed the head-dress. A gown and 
coat of Chamberi gauze, with a red satin stripe over 
a pink waist, and coat flounced with crape, trimmed 
with broad point and pink ribbon ; wreaths of roses 
across the coat ; gauze sleeves and ruffles." 

Mrs. Adams was very fond of her nieces, and 
they must have their share of London finery. In 
July, 1786, she writes to "my dear girls": 

"I bought me a blue sarcenet coat not long since ; 
after making it up I found it was hardly wide 
enough to wear over a straw coat, but I thought it 
was no matter ; I could send it to one of my nieces. 
When I went to put it up, I thought, I wished I had 
another. 'It is easily got,' said I. *Ned, bring the 
carriage to the door and drive me to Thornton's, 
the petticoat shop.' 'Here, Madam, is a very nice 
pink coat, made too of the widest sarcenet.' 'Well, 
put it up.' So back I drove, and now, my dear girls, 
there is a coat for each of you. Settle between your- 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 227 

selves which shall have the blue and which the pink, 
pay no regard to the direction, only when you put 
them on, remember your aunt wishes they were 
better for your sakes." 

Sarcenet was in those days ''a fine soft silk,'* the 
word being ''probably derived from 'Saracen/ " ^ 

It is pleasant to fancy the deHght of the nieces 
when the box from London arrived. How they 
shook out the shining folds and tried the coats on 
before the glass, and cried, "Dear, kind Aunt 
Abby!" 

Though London claimed most of their time, there 
were pleasant jaunts now and then for the Adamses, 
to this or that famous place. They went to Wind- 
sor, to Bath (which Abigail disliked heartily), to 
Portsmouth. Mr. Adams' diary gives glimpses 
of some of these excursions : 

"April, 1786. Edgehill and Worcester were cu- 
rious and interesting to us, as scenes where freemen 
had fought for their rights. The people in the 
neighborhood appeared so ignorant and careless at 
Worcester, that I was provoked, and asked, 'And 
do Englishmen so soon forget the ground where 
liberty was fought for? Tell your neighbors and 
your children that this is holy ground ; much holier 

^"Concise Oxford Dictionary." 



228 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

than that on which your churches stand. All Eng- 
land should come in pilgrimage to this hill once a 
year/ 

"This animated them, and they seemed much 
pleased with it. Perhaps their awkwardness before 
might arise from their uncertainty of our senti- 
ments concerning the civil wars." 

A trip like this must have been a great refresh- 
ment to Mrs. Adams ; she did not like London. She 
tells her friend, Mrs. Warren: 

"I have resided in this country nearly two years, 
and, in that time, I have made some few acquaint- 
ances whom I esteem, and shall leave with regret; 
but the customs and manners of a metropolis are 
unfriendly to that social intercourse which I have 
ever been accustomed to. Amusement and diversion 
may always be purchased at the theatres and places 
of public resort, so that little pains are taken to 
cultivate that benevolence and interchange of kind- 
ness which sweetens life, in lieu of which mere 
visits of form are substituted to keep up the union. 
Not only the wrinkled brow of age is grasping at 
the card-table, and even tricking with mean ava- 
rice, but the virgin bloom of innocence and beauty 
is withered at the same vigils. I do not think I 
should draw a false picture of the nobility and gen- 



THE COURT OF ST. JAMES 229 

try of this metropolis, if I were to assert that money 
and pleasure are the sole objects of their ardent 
pursuit ; public virtue, and, indeed, all virtue, is ex- 
posed to sale, and as to principle, where is it to be 
found, either in the present administration or oppo- 
sition? Luxury, dissipation, and vice, have a nat- 
ural tendency to extirpate every generous principle, 
and leave the heart susceptible of the most malig- 
nant vices." 

I think she longed for home throughout the three 
years of her stay in London. It was not her own 
place. She met many famous people, and was glad 
to meet them, but their ways were not her ways. 
Besides this, her reception at Court, as well as her 
husband's, had been as cold as policy and bare civil- 
ity would allow. How could it be otherwise ? How 
could George HI, honest creature that he was, pre- 
tend to be glad to see the Minister of his own lost 
dominion? It was perhaps too much to expect of 
him, and Queen Charlotte was of no more heroic 
mold than he, of no more tact or innate courtesy, 
and behaved accordingly. Abigail Adams was too 
proud to allude to this at the time ; there is no hint 
of it in the letters from London. It was not till 
long after this that in a letter to her daughter she 
shows something of the bitterness that still remained 



230 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

in her heart. It was when the French Revolution 
seemed to threaten disaster to the throne of Eng- 
land. 

^'Humiliation for Charlotte," she says, "is no sor- 
row for me. She richly deserves her full portion 
for the contempt and scorn which she took pains to 
discover." 

Those must have been grave affronts indeed that 
made so deep and abiding an impression on a heart 
so good and kind. 

The stay in London brought her two great joys : 
the happy marriage of her daughter Abigail to CoK 
onel W. S. Smith, the young secretary of the Ameri- 
can Legation, and the birth of her first grandson. 
But when all was said, it was a glad day that 
brought Mr. Adams' decision to petition Congress 
for leave to return home ; and a far gladder one for 
Mrs. Adams, when she set foot once more, in May, 
1788, on the shore of the country she so deeply 
loved. 



CHAPTER XI 
VEXATIOUS HONORS 

WHILE the Adamses were still in England, 
the Constitution of the United States had 
been framed; had been signed, September 17th, 
1787, by George Washington, as president of the 
convention charged with its preparation, and rati- 
fied by a majority of the States. Now, a few 
months after their return, the first Presidential elec- 
tion took place, and John Adams, after nominating 
George Washington for President, found himself 
by general consent elected Vice-President. He took 
the new honor quietly and seriously, as he took 
everything; nor is it likely that Mrs. Adams was 
unduly elated by it. They made little change in 
their sober way of life. We are told that "the town 
of Hartford could think of no gift so appropriate 
for John Adams on his way to be inaugurated Vice- 
President as a roll of cloth from its own looms. 
All true patriots heard with joy that . . . when 

231 



232 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

the American Fabius stood forth to take the oath 
of office he was clad from head to foot in garments 
whose material was the product of the soil." But 
by the time John Adams was inaugurated President, 
lie had advanced so far that he went to the cere- 
mony in a coach and six, followed by a procession of 
coaches and four. 

New York was then the seat of government, and 
it was near New York that Mr. Adams established 
liis family. There were to be no more long sepa- 
rations, no weary leagues stretching between Portia 
and her dearest friend. Both of them longed for 
Braintree, the home of their hearts, but since both 
could not be there, neither would be. A suitable 
liome was found at Richmond Hill, then a lovely 
country place, a mile and a half from New York, 
and here some pleasant months were passed. Mrs. 
Adams thus describes Richmond Hill to her sister: 

"The house in which we reside is situated upon 
a hill, the avenue to which is interspersed with for- 
est trees, under which a shrubbery rather too 
luxuriant and wild has taken shelter, owing to its 
having been deprived by death, some years since, of 
its original proprietor, who kept it in perfect order. 
In front of the house, the noble Hudson rolls his 
majestic waves, bearing upon his bosom innumer- 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 233 

able small vessels, which are constantly forwarding 
the rich products of the neighboring soil to the busy 
hand of a more extensive commerce. Beyond the 
Hudson rises to our view the fertile country of the 
Jerseys, covered with a golden harvest, and pour- 
ing forth plenty like the cornucopiae of Ceres. On 
the right hand, an extensive plain presents us with 
a view of fields covered with verdure, and pastures 
full of cattle. On the left, the city opens upon us, 
intercepted only by clumps of trees, and some ris- 
ing ground, which serves to heighten the beauty of 
the scene, by appearing to conceal a part. In the 
background is a large flower-garden, enclosed with 
a hedge and some very handsome trees. On one 
side of it, a grove of pines and oaks fit for con- 
templation. ... If my days of fancy and romance 
were not past, I could find here an ample field for 
indulgence; yet, amidst these delightful scenes of 
nature, my heart pants for the society of my dear 
relatives and friends who are too far removed 
from me. . . ." 

She was not long to enjoy the beauties of Rich- 
mond Hill. In 1790, the seat of government was 
transferred to Philadelphia, and thither the faithful 
pair journeyed. The change was a most uncom- 
fortable, even a dangerous one for Mrs. Adams, 



234 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

who had barely recovered from a serious illness. 
Soon after her arrival (November 21, 1790), she 
writes to her daughter from her new abode : 

"Bush Hill, as it is called, though by the way 
there remains neither bush nor shrub upon it, and 
very few trees, except the pine grove behind it, — 
yet Bush Hill is a very beautiful place. But the 
grand and sublime I left at Richmond Hill. The 
cultivation in sight and prospect are superior, but 
the Schuylkill is not more like the Hudson, than I 
to Hercules. The house is better finished within; 
but, when you come to compare the conveniences 
for storeroom, kitchen, closets, etc., there is nothing 
like it in the whole house. As chance governs many 
actions of my life, when we arrived in the city, we 
proceeded to the house. By accident, the vessel with 
our furniture had arrived the day before, and Bries- 
ler was taking in the first load into a house all green- 
painted, the workmen there with their brushes in 
hand. This was cold comfort in a house, where I 
suppose no fire had been kindled for several years, 
except in a back kitchen; but, as I expected many 
things of this kind, I was not disappointed nor dis- 
comfited. As no wood nor fodder had been pro- 
vided before-hand, we could only turn about, and 
go to the City Tavern for the night. 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 235 

*The next morning was pleasant, and I ventured 
to come up and take possession; but what confusion! 
Boxes, barrels, chairs, tables, trunks, etc. ; every 
thing to be arranged, and few hands to accomplish 
it, for Briesler was obliged to be at the vessel. The 
first object was to get fires ; the next to get up beds ; 
but the cold, damp rooms, the new paint, etc., 
proved almost too much for me. On Friday we 
arrived here, and late on Saturday evening we got 
our furniture in. On Sunday, Thomas was laid 
up with rheumatism; on Monday, I was obliged to 
give Louisa an emetic; on Tuesday, Mrs. Briesler 
was taken with her old pain in her stomach; and, 
to complete the whole, on Thursday, Polly was 
seized with a violent pleuritic fever. She has been 
twice bled, a blister upon her side, and has not been 
out of bed since, only as she is taken up to have 
her bed made. And every day, the stormy ones 
excepted, from eleven until three, the house is filled 
with ladies and gentlemen. As all this is no more 
nor worse than I expected, I bear it without repin- 
ing, and feel thankful that I have weathered it out 
without a relapse, though some days I have not been 
able to sit up. . . . 

"I have not yet begun to return visits, as the 
ladies expect to find me at home, and I have not 



236 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

been in a state of health to do it ; nor am I yet in a 
very eligible state to receive their visits. I, how- 
ever, endeavored to have one room decent to re- 
ceive them, which, with my own chamber, is as 
much as I can boast of at present being in tolerable 
order. The difficulty of getting workmen, Mr. 
Hamilton pleads as an excuse for the house not 
being ready. Mrs. Lear was in to see me yester- 
day, and assures me that I am much better off than 
Mrs. Washington will be when she arrives, for that 
their house is not likely to be completed this year. 
And, when all is done, it will not be Broadway. 
If New York wanted any revenge for the removal, 
the citizens might be glutted if they would come 
here, where every article has become almost double 
in price, and where it is not possible for Congress, 
and the appendages, to be half so well accommo- 
dated for a long time. One would suppose that 
the people thought Mexico was before them, and 
that Congress were the possessors." 

This was indeed an ominous beginning of the 
winter. A week later Thomas, Mrs. Adams' third 
son, was taken very ill with rheumatic fever, the 
natural result of moving into a damp, unfinished 
house in November. 

"It seems," writes the poor lady, "as if sickness 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 237 

followed me wherever I go ... I had a great mis- 
fortune happen to my best trunk of clothes. The 
vessel sprunk a leak, and my trunk got wet a foot 
high, by which means I have several gowns spoiled ; 
and the one you worked is the most damaged, and a 
black satin; — the blessed effects of tumbling about 
the world.'* 

A month later, things were scarcely better. 

*T would tell you that I had an ague in my face,, 
and a violent toothache, which has prevented my 
writing to you all day; but I am determined ta 
brave it out this evening, and enquire how you do. 
Without further complaint, I have become so ten- 
der, from keeping so much in a warm chamber,, 
that, as soon as I set my feet out, I am sure to 
come home with some new pain or ache." 

Philadelphia was gay that winter : a "constellation 
of beauties" was sparkling in the social firmament. 
Mrs. Adams cannot say enough about "the dazzling" 
Mrs. Bingham," who "has certainly given laws to 
the ladies here, in fashion and elegance : their man- 
ners and appearance are superior to what I have 
seen." She adds: "I should spend a very dissi- 
pated winter, if I were to accept one-half the in- 
vitations I receive, particularly to the routs, or tea 
and cards. Even Saturday evening is not excepted. 



238 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

and I refused an invitation of that kind for this 
evening. I have been to one assembly. The danc- 
ing- was very good; the company of the best kind. 
The President and Madam, the Vice-President and 
Madam, Ministers of State, and their Madams, etc. ; 
but the room despicable ; the etiquette, — it was diffi- 
cult to say where it was to be found." 

She is writing to Mrs. Smith, the beloved daugh- 
ter whom she missed daily and hourly. In this 
same letter (January 8th 1791) we catch a glimpse 
of the Vice-President which would have astonished 
his fellow-workers in Congress. Little John Smith 
was visiting his grandparents at this time. "As to 
John," says Grandmother Abigail, "we grow every 
day fonder of him. He has spent an hour this 
afternoon in driving his grandpapa round the room 
with a willow stick." 

I shall never again see a portrait of John Adams, 
dignified and portly, in powder and pigtail, without 
calling up this pleasant companion picture of the 
grandfather capering about the room to the whis- 
tling of a willow switch. 

The following letters, written by Mr. Adams 
while on a visit to Quincy, show him in his most 
delightful aspect. 

"You apologize for the length of your letters, 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 239 

and I ought to excuse the shortness and emptiness of 
mine. Yours give me more entertainment than all ^ 
the speeches I hear. There are more good thoughts, 
fine strokes, and mother wit in them than I hear in 
the whole week. An ounce of mother wit is worth ^ 
a pound of clergy ; and I rejoice that one of my chil- 
dren, at least, has an abundance of not only mother 
wit, but his mother's wit. It is one of the most ami- 
able and striking traits in his composition. It ap- 
peared in all its glory and severity in *Barneveldt.' 
"If the rogue has any family pride, it is all de- 
rived from the same source. His Pa renounces and 
abjures every trace of it. He has curiosity to know 
his descent and comfort in the knowledge that his 
ancestors, on both sides, for several generations, 
have been innocent. But no pride in this. Pomp, 
splendor, office, title, power, riches are the sources 
of pride, but even these are not excuse for pride. 
The virtues and talents of ancestors should be con- 
sidered as examples and solemn trusts and produce 
meekness, modesty, and humility, lest they should 
not be imitated and equalled. Mortification and 
humiliation can be the only legitimate feelings of a 
mind conscious that it falls short of its ancestors in 
merit. I must stop." 



240 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

"You say so many handsome things to me, re- 
specting my letters, that you ought to fear making 
me vain; since, however we may appreciate the 
encomiums of the world, the praises of those whom 
we love and esteem are more dangerous, because we 
are led to believe them the most sincere. . . . 

"Prince Edward sailed last Saturday. He sent 
his aides to visit the Lieutenant-Governor, but 
would not go himself. He dined with Mrs. Han- 
cock, and was visited by many gentlemen in town. 
He went to the assembly with Mr. Russell, and 
danced with Mrs. Russell. He went to visit the 
college, but I did not hear that he had any curi- 
osity to see Bunker Hill. He related an anecdote at 
the table of the English consul. As he was coming 
from Quebec, he stopped at an inn, where an elderly 
countryman desired to see him. After some bow- 
ing, etc., the countryman said : *I hear you are King 
George's son.' *They tell me so,* said the prince. 
'And, pray how do you like this country?* 'Why, 
very well,* replied his highness. 'And how do you 
think your father liked to lose it?* 'Why, not half 
so well as I should like to live in it,* replied the 
prince, which answer pleased the countryman. I 
hear he took notice of all the French refugees, and 
offered any of them a passage with him to the West 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 241 

Indies. His stay here was very short, and it was 
best it should be so.'^ 

One has pleasant glimpses of George Washing- 
ton, in Mrs. Adams' letters. One day she dined 
with him and Mrs. Washington and found him 
"more than usually social. . . . He asked very 
affectionately after you and the children, and at 
table picked the sugar-plums from a cake, and re- 
quested me to take them for master John." 

The custom of sending bonbons to the children 
dates back to Colonial times, when any social en- 
tertainment was apt to be followed by what was 
pleasantly called "Cold Party." The day after, the 
hostess would send a judicious assortment of left- 
over delicacies to such neighbors as had been un- 
able to join the party. In my own childhood, my 
mother's going to a dinner party was always an oc- 
casion of excitement, because of wonderful bonbons 
that we children would receive the next day ; pieces 
of red or white sugar candy, in elaborate wrappings 
of gilt paper, tinsel and gauze : I do not see the like 
today. 

Philadelphia society was certainly t^rilliant in 
those days. The Duke of Rochefoucauld-Liancourt 
was deeply impressed by it, and wrote in his book 
of Travels: 



242 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

"The profusion and luxury of Philadelphia 
on great days, at the tables of the wealthy, in 
their equipages, and the dresses of their wives and 
daughters, are, as I have observed, extreme. I have 
seen balls on the President's birthday where the 
splendor of the rooms, and the variety and richness 
of the dresses did not suffer in comparison with 
Europe; and it must be acknowledged that the 
beauty of the American ladies has the advantage in 
the comparison. The young women of Philadelphia 
are accomplished in different degrees, but beauty is 
general with them. They want the ease and fash- 
ion of Frenchwomen; but the brilliancy of their 
complexion is infinitely superior. Even when they 
grow old they are still handsome ; and it would be no 
exaggeration to say in the numerous assemblies of 
Philadelphia it is impossible to meet with what is 
called a plain woman. As for the young men, they 
for the most part seem to belong to another spe- 
cies." 

What were these rich and various dresses? We 
have chapter and verse for some of them. One lady 
wore at a certain ball "a plain celestial-blue satin, 
with a white satin petticoat. On the neck was worn 
a very large Italian gauze handkerchief, with border 
stripes of satin. The head-dress was a pouf of 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 243 

gauze, in the form of a globe, the creneaux or head- 
piece of which was composed of white satin, having 
a double wing in large plaits, and trimmed with a 
wreath of artificial roses, falling from the left at 
the top to the right at the bottom, in front, and the 
reverse behind. The hair was dressed all over in 
detached curls, four of which, in two ranks, fell on 
each side of the neck, and were relieved behind by 
a floating chignon/' 

The gentleman who led this gorgeous costume 
and its wearer through *'Sir Roger de Coverley'' 
was doubtless dressed in more sober fashion. One 
of these republican exquisites thus describes his own 
costume, possibly at the same ball : *1 was dressed 
in a light French blue coat, with a high collar, 
broad lappels, and large gilt buttons, a double- 
breasted Marseilles vest. Nankeen-colored cassimere 
breeches, wath white silk stockings, shining pumps, 
and full ruffles on my breast and at my wrists, to- 
gether with a ponderous white cravat, with a pud- 
ding in it, as we then called it; and I was consid- 
ered the best dressed gentleman in the room." 

The winter of 1790-91 was one of extremes. The 
Adamses burned forty cords of wood in four 
months. On the 17th and i8th of March, Mrs. 
Adams dined with all the windows open, put out 



244 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

the fires, and "ate ice to cool her ; the glasses at 80." 
On the 20th, it snowed all day, the snow followed 
by a keen northwester and frost. In bad weather 
it was difficult for the dwellers at Bush Hill to stir 
from their abode. 

"We are only two miles from town, yet have I 
been more of a prisoner this winter than I ever 
was in my life. The road from hence to the pave- 
ment is one mile and a half, the soil a brick clay, 
so that, when there has been heavy rain, or a thaw, 
you must wallow to the city through a bed of mor- 
tar without a bottom, the horses sinking to their 
knees. If it becomes cold, then the holes and the 
roughness are intolerable.'* 

The next published letter of Mrs. Adams is dated 
Quincy, 11 February, 1793. It is to Mrs. Smith, 
and is largely concerned with political issues which 
today have lost their poignancy. She has much to 
say of the "artifices and lies of the Jacobins," mean- 
ing the anti-Federalist party, which was opposed to 
Washington and Adams. It is strange indeed to 
read today that "the President has been openly 
abused in the National Gazette, — abused for his 
levees as an ape of royalty; Mrs. Washington 
abused for her drawing-rooms; their celebration of 
birth-davs sneered at; himself insulted because he 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 245 

has not come forward and exerted his influence in 
favor of a further compensation to the army. They 
even tell him that a greater misfortune cannot be- 
fall a people than for their President to have no 
competitor; that it infuses into him a supercilious 
spirit, renders him self-important, and creates an 
idea that one man only is competent to govern. They 
compare him to a hyena and a crocodile ; charge him 
with duplicity and deception. The President has 
not been accustomed to such language, and his feel- 
ings will be wounded, I presume.'' 

I presume they were. Nobody likes to be called 
a hyena and a crocodile, and Pater Patriae could 
not fail to be sensible of a lack of propriety in the 
epithets. 

It was all natural enough, perhaps. These were 
the days of the French Revolution, and all the world 
was heaving with the throes of that tremendous con- 
vulsion. We were fortunate to get nothing worse 
than a little recrimination, which did no lasting 
harm. We are ignorant of the names of those who 
called Washington hyena and crocodile, and we have 
no curiosity on the subject. 

Neither President nor Vice-President had much 
comfort in their second term. The political pot was 
seething furiously; men were burning their fingers, 



246 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

and crying out with pain of the burning. "Envy, 
hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness" ran rife in 
the Republic where brotherly love should rule in 
peace. Six months before the end of his second 
term, Washington announced his resolve to retire 
from public service; a resolve not to be shaken by 
any entreaties. By this time the country, which had 
stood united through the first Presidential election, 
and divided only on the minor issue (the choice of a 
Vice-President), in the second was definitely split 
into two factions: Federalists and Democratic-Re- 
publicans faced each other in ardent strife. As I 
have said before, I am not writing a history : suffice 
it to say that John Adams, as Federalist candidate, 
was elected President, his rival, Thomas Jefferson, 
becoming Vice-President. 

Mrs. Adams' letter to her husband on the day of 
his inauguration, February 8th, 1797, has become a 
classic, and is in every way worthy of her. 

"The sun is dressed in brightest beams, 
To give thy honors to the day. 

"And may it prove an auspicious prelude to each 
ensuing season. You have this day to declare your- 
self head of a nation. 'And now, O Lord, my God, 
thou hast made thy servant ruler over the people. 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 247 

Give unto him an understanding heart, that he may 
know how to go out and come in before this great 
people; that he may discern between good and bad. 
For who is able to judge this thy so great a people?^ 
were the words of a royal sovereign; and not less 
applicable to him who is invested with the chief 
magistracy of a nation, though he wear not a crown, 
nor the robes of royalty. 

''My thoughts and my meditations are with you, 
though personally absent ; and my petitions to Heav- 
en are, that 'the things which make for peace may 
not be hidden from your eyes.* My feelings are 
not those of pride or ostentation, upon the occasion. 
They are solemnized by a sense of the obligations, 
the important trusts, and numerous duties connected 
with it. That you may be enabled to discharge 
them with honor to yourself, with justice and im- 
partiality to your country, and with satisfaction to 
this great people, shall be the daily prayer of your 

"A. A." 

Philadelphia was still the seat of government, the 
new city of Washington not being yet ready for 
occupation. There are few published letters of this 
period; the cares and calls of society were heavy 
upon Mrs. Adams. She had never fully recovered 



248 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

from the illness of 1790, and was subject to recur- 
rent attacks of feven She spent as much of her 
time as was possible at Quincy, the name now given 
to that part of Braintree where they lived. When 
in Philadelphia, and later in Washington, she per- 
formed the duties of her high office carefully, thor- 
oughly, with her own stately dignity, but I doubt if 
she ever enjoyed them. She writes to her friend, 
Mrs. James Warren, on March 4th, 1797: 

"For your congratulations upon a late important 
event accept my acknowledgments. Considering it 
as the voluntary and unsolicited gift of a free and 
enlightened people, it is a precious and. valuable de- 
posit and calls for every exertion of the head and 
every virtue of the heart to do justice to so sacred 
a trust. Yet, however pure the intentions or up- 
right the conduct, offences will come, 

High stations tumult but not bliss create. 

"As to a crown, my dear Madam, I will not deny 
that there is one which I aspire after, and in a coun- 
try where envy can never enter to plant thorns be- 
neath it. The fashion of this world passeth away — 
I would hope that I have not lived in vain, but have 
learnt how to estimate and what value to place upon 
the fleeting and transitory enjoyment of it. I shall 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 249 

esteem myself peculiarly fortunate, if, at the close 
of my public life, I can retire esteemed, beloved and 
equally respected with my predecessor.'* 

Mr. Adams' feelings are expressed in the follow- 
ing words, written to his wife the day after the 
election. 

"Your dearest friend never had a more trying 
day than yesterday. A solemn scene it was indeed, 
and it was made more affecting to me by the pres- 
ence of the General, whose countenance was as se- 
rene and unclouded as the day. He seemed to me to 
enjoy a triumph over me. Methought I heard him 
say, *Ay! I am fairly out, and you are fairly in! 
See which of us will be happiest.' When the cere- 
mony was over, he came and made me a visit, and 
cordially congratulated me, and wished my admin- 
istration might be happy, successful and honorable." 

There were thorns enough in the presidential 
"crown," for both Mr. and Mrs. Adams. The 
storm, instead of abating, rose higher and higher. 
There was danger of war with France: a danger 
only averted by the rise of Napoleon Bonaparte to 
power, as First Consul of France. Consequent upon 
these troubles came the Alien and Sedition Acts, 
which brought endless vexation of spirit for Presi- 
dent Adams and for everyone else concerned in 



250 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

them. The details of the struggle may not be given 
here: suffice it to say that through four tempes- 
tuous years the old statesman fought gallantly and 
steadfastly for the political principles which were 
dearer to him than life itself, but fought in vain. 
The tide had set against him, and in November, 
1800, he had the intense mortification of seeing his 
colleague, his former friend and present rival, 
Thomas Jefferson, elected President in his place. 

This was bitter indeed to the stout patriot who 
had given his whole life to the service of his coun- 
try. Conscious of his absolute integrity ("He is 
vain and irritable," said Jefferson himself, "but 
disinterested as the being who made him!"), and 
his unfailing devotion, John Adams could not but 
resent the slight put upon him; nor, strive as she 
might, could his faithful Portia help resenting it 
for him. She writes to her son Thomas (Novem- 
ber 13th, 1800) : 

"Well, my dear son, South Carolina has behaved 
as your father always said she would. The conse- 
quence to us, personally, is, that we retire from 
public life. For myself and family, I have few re- 
grets. At my age, and with my bodily infirmities, I 
shall be happier at Quincy. Neither my habits, nor 
my education, or inclinations have led me to an ex- 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 251 

pensive style of living, so that on that score I have 
little to mourn over. If I did not rise with dignity, 
I can at least fall with ease, which is the more diffi- 
cult task. I wish your father's circumstances were 
not so limited and circumscribed, as they must be, 
because he cannot indulge himself in those improve- 
ments upon his farm, which his inclination leads 
him to, and which would serve to amuse him, and 
contribute to his health. I feel not any resentment 
against those who are coming into power, and only 
wish the future administration of the government 
may be as productive of the peace, happiness, and 
prosperity of the nation, as the two former ones 
have been. I leave to time the unfolding of a 
drama. I leave to posterity to reflect upon the 
times past; and I leave them characters to contem- 
plate. My own intention is to return to Quincy as 
soon as I conveniently can ; I presume in the month 
of January." 

It was at this trying time that the seat of gov- 
ernment was transferred to Washington. What 
the President's wife thought of the move is ap- 
parent from the following letters to her daughter: 

"I arrived here on Sunday last, and without meet- 
ing with any accident worth noticing, except losing 
ourselves when we left Baltimore, and going eight 



252 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

or nine miles on the Frederick road, by which means 
we were obliged to go the other eight through 
woods, where we wandered two hours without find- 
ing a guide, or the path. Fortunately, a straggling 
black came up with us, and we engaged him as a 
guide, to extricate us out of our difficulty; but 
woods are all you see, from Baltimore until you 
reach the city, which is only so in name. Here and 
there is a small cot, without a glass window, inter- 
spersed amongst the forests, through which you 
travel miles without seeing any human being. In 
the city there are buildings enough, if they were 
compact and finished, to accommodate Congress and 
those attached to it; but as they are, and scattered 
as they are, I see no great comfort for them. The 
river, which runs up to Alexandria, is in full view 
of my window, and I see the vessels as they pass 
and repass. The house is upon a grand and superb 
scale, requiring about thirty servants to attend and 
keep the apartments in proper order, and perform 
the ordinary business of the house and stables; an 
establishment very well proportioned to the Presi- 
dent's salary. The lighting the apartments, from 
the kitchen to parlors and chambers, is a tax indeed ; 
and the fires we are obliged to keep to secure us 
from daily agues is another very cheering comfort. 




ffi .2 
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w 

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O 

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W 
hJ 

W 
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CD 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 253 

To assist us in this great castle, and render less 
attendance necessary, bells are wholly wanting, not 
one single one being hung through the whole house, 
and promises are all you can obtain. This is so 
great an inconvenience, that I know not what to 
do, or how to do. The ladies from Georgetown 
and in the city have many of them visited me. 
Yesterday I returned fifteen visits, — but such a place 
as Georgetown appears, — why, our Milton is beauti- 
ful. But no comparisons ; — if they will put me up 
some bells, and let me have wood enough to keep 
fires, I design to be pleased. I could content my- 
self almost anywhere three months ; but, surrounded 
with forests, can you believe that wood is not to be 
had, because people cannot be found to cut and 
cart it ! Briesler entered into a contract with a man 
to supply him with wood. A small part, a few cords 
only, has he been able to get. Most of that was 
expended to dry the walls of the house before we 
came in, and yesterday the man told him it was im- 
possible for him to procure it to be cut and carted. 
He has had recourse to coals; but we cannot get 
grates made and set. We have, indeed, come into 
a new country. 

"You must keep all this to yourself, and, when 
asked how I like it, say that I write you the situation 



254 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

is beautiful, which is true. The house is made habit- 
able, but there is not a single apartment finished,, 
and all withinside, except the plastering, has been 
done since Briesler came. We have not the least 
fence, yard, or other convenience, without, and the 
great unfinished audience-room I make a drying- 
' room of, to hang up the clothes in. The principal 
stairs are not up, and will not be this winter. Six 
chambers are made comfortable; two are occupied 
by the President and Mr. Shaw; two lower rooms, 
one for a common parlor, and one for a levee-room. 
Up stairs there is the oval room, which is designed 
for the drawing-room, and has the crimson furni- 
ture in it. It is a very handsome room now; but, 
when completed, it will be beautiful. If the twelve 
years, in which this place has been considered as 
the future seat of government, had been improved, 
as they would have been if in New England, very 
many of the present inconveniences would have been 
removed. It is a beautiful spot, capable of every 
improvement, and, the more I view it, the more I 
am delighted with it.'* 

"2y November, 1800. 
"I received your letter by Mr. Pintard. Two 
articles we are much distressed for ; the one is bells, 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 255 

but the more important one is wood. Yet you can- 
not see wood for trees. No arrangement has been 
made, but by promises never performed, to supply 
the new-comers with fuel. Of the promises Bries- 
ler has received his full share. He had procured 
■nine cords of wood; between six and seven of that 
was kindly burnt up to dry the walls of the house, 
which ought to have been done by the commission- 
ers, but which, if left to them, would have remained 
undone to this day. Congress poured in, but shiver, 
shiver. No woodcutters nor carters to be had at 
any rate. We are now indebted to a Pennsylvania 
waggon to bring us, through the first clerk in the 
Treasury office, one cord and a half of wood, which 
is all we have for this house, where twelve fires are 
constantly required, and where, we are told, the 
roads will soon be so bad that it cannot be drawn. 
Briesler procured two hundred bushels of coals or 
we must have suffered. This is the situation of 
almost every person. The public officers have sent 
to Philadelphia for woodcutters and waggons. 

'*You will read in the answer of the House to 
the President's Speech a full and explicit approba- 
tion of the Administration ; a cooperation with him 
equal to his utmost expectations; this passed with- 



256 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

out an amendment or any debate or squabble, and 
has just now been delivered by the House in a body. 
The vessel which has my clothes and other matters 
is not arrived. The ladies are impatient for a 
drawing-room; I have no looking-glasses but 
dwarfs for this house; nor a twentieth part lamps 
enough to light it. Many things were stolen, many 
more broken, by the removal ; amongst the number, 
my tea china is more than half missing. George- 
town affords nothing. My rooms are very pleas- 
ant and warm whilst the doors of the hall are 
closed. 

"You can scarce believe that here in this wilder- 
ness city, I should find my time so occupied as it 
is. My visitors, some of them, come three and 
four miles. The return of one of them is the work 
of one day; most of the ladies reside in George- 
town or in scattered parts of the city at two and 
three miles distance. Mrs. Otis, my nearest neigh- 
bour, is at lodgings almost half a mile from me; 
Mrs. Senator Otis, two miles. 

"We have all been very well as yet; if we can by 
any means get wood, we shall not let our fires go 
out, but it is at a price indeed; from four dollars 
it has risen to nine. Some say it will fall, but there 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 257 

must be more industry than is to be found here to 
bring half enough to the market for the consump- 
tion of the inhabitants. 

"With kind remembrance to all friends, 

"I am your truly affectionate mother, 

"A. A." 

John Cotton Smith, Member of Congress from 
Connecticut, adds these details : 

"One wing of the Capitol only had been erected, 
which with the President's House, a mile distant 
from it, both constructed with white sandstone, were 
striking objects in dismal contrast with the scene 
around them. Instead of recognizing the avenues 
and streets, pourtrayed on the plan of the city, not 
one was visible, unless we except a road with two 
buildings on each side of it, called the New Jersey 
Avenue. The Pennsylvania, leading, as laid down 
on paper, from the Capitol to the Presidential Man- 
sion, was then nearly the whole distance a deep 
morass, covered with alder bushes, which were cut 
through the width of the intended avenue the then 
ensuing winter. . . . The roads in every direction 
were muddy and unimproved; a sidewalk was at- 
tempted in one instance by a covering formed of 
the chips of the stones which had been hewed from 



2SS ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

the Capitol. It extended but a little way, and was 
of little value, for in dry weather the sharp frag- 
ments cut our shoes, and in wet weather covered 
them with white mortar." 

Mrs. Adams was to have only four months of 
this disturbed existence. The climate of Wash- 
ington, the general discomfort added to anxiety and 
distress of mind, made her ill, and she left the city 
before Mr. Adams did. During her short stay, 
however, she won the admiration of all by the dig- 
nity, grace and judgment with which she filled a 
most difficult position. She never lost her cheerful- 
ness. "I am a mortal enemy," she said, "to any- 
thing but a cheerful countenance and a merry heart, 
which Solomon tells us, does good like a medicine." 
So in those dark days, when the tide of abuse and 
calumny raged around her beloved husband, she 
was more than ever the lamp that lighted and the 
fire that warmed him. Whatever was said of him 
— and one fancies that "hyena" and "crocodile" 
were mild epithets compared with those showered 
on the brave old statesman, — no one had anything 
hut praise for Mrs. Adams. On January ist, 1801, 
was held the first New Year's reception at the White 
House. She received the guests with her own calm 
grace and dignity. No one would have guessed that 



VEXATIOUS HONORS 259 

the house was half finished, the principal stairs still 
lacking, her china stolen and her husband defeated; 
she was mistress, not only of the White House, but 
of the situation. 

The closing days of the winter must have been 
painful to both Mr. and Mrs. Adams. They longed 
for the end, for the permanent return to "calm, 
happy Braintree,'' and before March came, Mrs. 
Adams was already there, ready to receive her dear- 
est friend. One of Mr. Adams' last acts was the 
appointment of John Marshall as chief-justice of 
the supreme court ; for this alone, he would deserve 
the lasting gratitude of the American people. He 
could not meet Jefferson, whom he had once loved, 
with whom he had toiled, suffered, triumphed, by 
whom he was now defeated. On March 3rd, 1801, 
he labored far into the night, signing commissions, 
arranging papers in his own methodical way, clos- 
ing, as it were, his accounts with a nation which 
he could not but think ungrateful. Early on the 
morning of the 4th, while the city was still wrapped 
in slumber, he entered his carriage and left Wash- 
ington forever. 



CHAPTER XII 
AFTERNOON AND EVENING 

IT was not in the little ''hut" of former days 
that Portia awaited her dearest friend. A state- 
lier dwelling was theirs henceforth, the house built 
by Leonard Vassall, a West India planter. It stood, 
and still stands, in its ample grounds, under its 
branching elms. The original building has received 
many additions, but it is the same house to which 
John Adams came on that spring day of 1801 ; the 
home of his later life, and of three generations of 
his descendants. 

John Adams was now seventy-six years old, still 
in the fullness of vigorous manhood. I seem to see 
him entering that door, a defeated and disappointed 
man, yet holding his head as high, and looking for- 
ward with as clear and steadfast a gaze as if he 
were come home in triumph. He might be angry, 
he might be hurt; but no injury could bow the head, 
or bend the broad shoulders, of him who had once 
been acclaimed as the Atlas of Independence. Thus 

260 



AFTERNOON AND EVENING 261 

seeing him, I cannot but recall the summing up of 
his character by another strong man, Theodore 
Parker, the preacher. 

"The judgment of posterity will be, that he was 
a brave man, deep-sighted, conscientious, patriotic, 
and possessed of Integrity which nothing ever 
shook, but which stood firm as the granite of his 
Quincy Hills. While American Institutions con- 
tinue, the People will honor brave, honest old John 
Adanis, who never failed his country in her hour 
of need, and who, in his life of more than ninety 
years, though both passionate and ambitious, 
wronged no man nor any woman. 

"And all the people shall say Amen !" 

In this peaceful and pleasant home, Mr. and Mrs. 
Adams were to pass the rest of their days. They 
wasted no time in repining; they were thankful to 
be at home, eager to enjoy the fruits of leisure and 
the quiet mind. By early May, Mrs. Adams was 
setting out raspberry bushes and strawberry vines, 
and working daily in her dairy. She sends word to 
her daughter that she might see her at five o'clock 
in the morning, skimming her milk. 

She was not the only busy one. "You will find 
your father," she writes to her son Thomas, "in his 
fields, attending to his hay-makers. . . . The crops 



262 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

of hay have been abundant; upon this spot, where 
eight years ago we cut scarcely six tons, we now 
have thirty." 

Mr. Josiah Quincy, in his "Figures of the Past," 
gives us delightful glimpses of Mr. and Mrs. Adams. 
He was a child of five when he used to gaze in won- 
der at the second President in Quincy meeting- 
house. 

**The President's pew was conspicuous in the re- 
constructed edifice, and there the old man was to 
be seen at every service. An air of respectful def- 
erence to John Adams seemed to pervade the build- 
ing. The ministers brought their best sermons when 
they came to exchange, and had a certain conscious- 
ness in their manner, as if officiating before roy- 
alty. The medley of stringed and wind instruments 
in the gallery — a survival of the sacred trumpets 
and shawms mentioned by King David — seemed to 
the imagination of a child to be making discord to- 
gether in honor of the venerable chief who was the 
centre of interest." 

As Josiah Quincy recalls his childhood, so the 
old President loved to recall his own. "I shall 
never forget," he would say, "the rows of vener- 
able heads ranged along those front benches which, 



AFTERNOON AND EVENING 263 

as a young fellow, I used to gaze upon. They were 
as old and gray as mine is now.*' 

When he was six, Josiah Quincy was put to school 
to the Reverend Peter Whitney, and, while there, 
was often asked to dine at the Adams house of a 
Sunday. "This was at first," he says, "somewhat 
of an ordeal for a boy ; but the genuine kindness of 
the President, who had not the smallest chip of an 
iceberg in his composition, soon made me perfectly 
at ease in his society." With Mrs. Adams, he 
found "a shade more formality" ; but this wore off, 
and he became much attached to her. "She always 
dressed handsomely, and her rich silks and laces 
seemed appropriate to a lady of her dignified posi- 
tion in the town." He adds : 

"I well remember the modest dinner at the Presi- 
dent's, to which I brought a school-boy's appetite. 
The pudding, generally composed of boiled corn- 
meal, always constituted the first course. This was 
the custom of the time, — it being thought desirable 
to take the edge off one's hunger before reaching 
the joint. Indeed, it was considered wise to stimu- 
late the young to fill themselves with pudding, by 
the assurance that the boy who managed to eat the 
most of it should be helped most abundantly to the 
meat, which was to follow. It need not be said 



264 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

that neither the winner nor his competitors found 
much room for meat at the close of their contest; 
and so the domestic economy of the arrangement 
was very apparent. Miss Smith, a niece of Mrs. 
Adams, was an inmate of the President's family, 
and one of these ladies always carved. Mr. Adams 
made his contribution to the service of the table in 
the form of that good-humoured, easy banter, which 
makes a dinner of herbs more digestible than is a 
stalled ox without it. At a late period of our ac- 
quaintance, I find preserved in my journals frequent 
though too meagre reports of his conversation. But 
of the time of which I am writing there is not a 
word discoverable. I can distinctly picture to my- 
self a certain iron spoon which the old gentleman 
once fished up from the depths of a pudding in 
which it had been unwittingly cooked; but of the 
pleasant things he said in those easy dinner-talks no 
trace remains." 

Henry Bradshaw Fearon, an Englishman who 
visited the Adamses in 1817, gives this description 
of the dinner: 

"ist course a pudding made of Indian corn, mo- 
lasses and butter. 2nd, veal, bacon, neck of mutton, 
potatoes, cabbages, carrots and Indian beans, Ma- 
deira wine, of which each drank two glasses. We 



AFTERNOON AND EVENING 265 

sat down to dinner at one o'clock. At two nearly 
all went a second time to church. For tea we had 
pound cake, wheat bread and butter, and bread made 
out of Indian corn and rye. Tea was brought from 
the kitchen and handed round by a neat white serv- 
ant girl. The topics of conversation were various : 
England, America, politics, literature, science and 
Dr. Priestley, Miss Edgeworth, Mrs. Siddons, Mr. 
Kean, France, Shakespeare, Moore, Lord Byron, 
Cobbett, American Revolution, the traitor, Gen. Ar- 
nold. . . . The establishment of the political pa- 
triarch consists of a house two stories high, con- 
taining, I believe, eight rooms; of two men arid 
three maidservants, three horses and a plain car- 
riage." 

Mrs. Adams' strength continued to decline, 
though her spirits never flagged. She writes to her 
sister, Mrs. Shaw, in June, 1809: 

"I was unable to reply to my dear sister's letter 
of May 19th when I received it, being visited by St. 
Anthony, who scourged me most cruelly. I am sure 
I wished well to the Spanish patriots, in their late 
struggle for liberty, and I bore no ill-will to those 
whose tutelar saint, thus unprovoked, beset me. I 
wish he had been preaching to the fishes, who, ac- 
cording to tradition, have been his hearers; for so 



266 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

ill did he use me, that I came near losing my senses. 
I think he must be a very bigoted saint, a favorer 
of the Inquisition, and a tyrant. If such are the 
penances of saints, I hope to hold no further inter- 
course with them. For four days and nights my 
face was so swelled and inflamed, that I was al- 
most blind. It seemed as though my blood boiled. 
Until the third day, when I sent for the doctor, I 
knew not what the matter was. It confined me for 
ten days. My face is yet red ; but I rode out today, 
and feel much better. I think a little journey would 
be of service to me ; but I find, as years and infirm- 
ities increase, my courage and enterprise diminish. 
Ossian says, *Age is dark and unlovely.* When I 
look in my glass, I do not much wonder at the story 
related of a very celebrated painter, Zeuxis, who, 
it is said, died of laughing at a comical picture he 
had made of an old woman. If our glass flatters 
us in youth, it tells us truths in age. The cold hand 
of death has frozen up some of the streams of our 
early friendships; the congelation is gaining upon 
vital powers and marking us for the tomb. 'May 
we so number our days as to apply our hearts unto 
wisdom.' 

"The man is yet unborn, who duly weighs an hour. 



AFTERNOON AND EVENING 267 

"When my family was young around me, I used 
to find more leisure, and think I could leave it with 
less anxiety than I can now. There is not any occa- 
sion for detailing the whys and wherefores. It is 
said, if riches increase, those increase that eat them; 
but what shall we say, when the eaters increase with- 
out the wealth? You know, my dear sister, if there 
be bread enough, and to spare, unless a prudent at- 
tention manage that sufficiency, the fruits of dili- 
gence will be scattered by the hand of dissipation. 
No man ever prospered in the world without the 
consent and cooperation of his wife. It behoves us, 
who are parents or grandparents, to give our daugh- 
ters and granddaughters, when their education de- 
volves upon us, such an education as shall qualify 
them for the useful and domestic duties of life, that 
they should learn the proper use and improvement 
of time, since 'time was given for use, not waste.* 
The finer accomplishments, such as music, dancing, 
and painting, serve to set off and embellish the pic- 
ture; but the groundwork must be formed of more 
durable colors. 

"I consider it as an indispensable requisite, that 
every American wife should herself know how to 
order and regulate her family; how to govern her 
domestics, and train up her children. For this pur- 



268 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

pose, the all-wise Creator made woman an help-meet 
for man, and she who fails in these duties does not 
answer the end of her creation. 

Life's cares are comforts ; such by Heaven designed ; 
They that have none must make them, or be wretched. 
Cares are employments, and, without employ, 
The soul is on a rack, the rack of rest. 

I have frequently said to my friends, when they 
have thought me overburdened with cares, I would 
rather have too much than too little. Life stag- 
nates without action. I could never bear merely to 
vegetate ; 

Waters stagnate when they cease to flow." 

Some of the most delightful letters of her later 
years are addressed to her granddaughter, Caroline 
Smith. The two following ones give a lively pic- 
ture of her daily life. 

"Your letter, my dear Caroline, gave me pleas- 
ure. As all yours are calculated to enliven the spir- 
its, I take them as a cordial, which during the resi- 
dence of the bald-pated winter and a close confine- 
ment to my chamber for several weeks, I have been 
much in want of. And now what return can I make 
you ? What can you expect from age, debility and 
weakness ? 

"Why, you shall have the return of a grateful 



AFTERNOON AND EVENING 269 

heart, which amidst infirmities is not insensible to 
the many blessings which encompass it. Food, rai- 
ment and fuel, dear and kind friends and relatives, 
mental food and entertainment sufficient to satisfy 
the craving appetite, and the hopes and prospect of 
another and better country, even an heavenly. 

Eternal power ! from whom these blessings flow. 
Teach me still more to wonder — more to know, 
Here round my home still lift my soul to thee. 

And let me ever midst thy bounties raise 
An humble note of thankfulness and praise. 

"Although my memory is not so tenacious as in 
youth, nor my eye-sight so clear, my hearing is un- 
impaired, my heart warm and my affections are as 
fervent to those in whom 'my days renew' as for- 
merly to those from 'whom my days I drew.' I 
have some troubles in the loss of friends by death, 
and no small solicitude for the motherless offspring, 
but my trust and confidence are in that being who 
'hears the young ravens when they cry.' I do not 
know, my dear Caroline, that I ever gave you en- 
couragement to expect me at the valley, although I 
should rejoice to be able to visit you — ^but I now 
look forward with the hope of seeing you here as 
an attendant upon your mother as soon as the spring 
opens and the roads will permit. 



270 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

"We have snow by the cargo this winter. Not a 
bird flits but a hungry crow now and then, in quest 
of prey. The fruit trees exhibit a mournful pic- 
ture, broken down by the weight of the snow; 
whilst the running of sleighs and the jingle of bells 
assures us that all nature does not slumber. 

"As if you love me, proverbially, you must love 
my dog, you will be glad to learn that Juno yet lives, 
although like her mistress she is gray with age. 
She appears to enjoy life and to be grateful for the 
attention paid her. She wags her tail and announces 
a visitor whenever one appears. 

"Adieu, my dear child — remember me with affec- 
tion to your brother and with kind affection to your 
honored father and also to your uncle whose benevo- 
lent qualities I respect and whose cheerful spirits 
have made *the wilderness to smile and blossom as 
the rose.' Most affectionately, 

"Your Grandmother, 
"Abigail Adams.'* 

"Quincy, 19 November, 18 12. 
"My Dear Caroline: 

"Your neat, pretty letter, looking small, but con- 
taining much, reached me this day. I have a good 
mind to give you the journal of the day. 



AFTERNOON AND EVENING 271 

"Six o'clock. Rose, and, in imitation of his Brit- 
annic Majesty, kindled my own fire. Went to the 
stairs, as usual, to summon George and Charles. 
Returned to my chamber, dressed myself. No one 
stirred. Called a second time, with a voice a little 
raised. 

"Seven o'clock. Blockheads not out of bed. 
Girls in motion. Mean, when I hire another man- 
servant, that he shall come for one call. 

"Eight o'clock. Fires made, breakfast prepared. 
L in Boston. Mrs. A. at the tea-board. For- 
got the sausages. Susan's recollection brought them 
upon the table. 

"Enter Ann. 'Ma'am, the man is come with 
coals.' 

" *Go, call George to assist him.' {Exit Ann.) 

"Enter Charles. 'Mr. B is come with cheese, 

turnips, etc. Where are they to be put?' 1 will 
attend to him myself.' {Exit Charles.) 

"Just seated at the table again. 

*'Enter George with, 'Ma'am, here is a man with 
a drove of pigs.' A consultation is held upon this 
important subject, the result of which is the pur- 
chase of two spotted swine. 

"Nine o'clock. Enter Nathaniel, from the upper 
house, with a message for sundries; and black 



272 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

Thomas's daughter, for sundries. Attended to all 
these concerns. A little out of sorts that I could 
not finish my breakfast. Note : never to be incom- 
moded with trifles. 

"Enter George Adams, from the post-office, — a 
large packet from Russia,^ and from the valley also. 
Avaunt, all cares, — I put you all aside, — and thus I 
find good news from a far country, — children, 
grandchildren, all well. I had no expectation of 
hearing from Russia this winter, and the pleasure 
was the greater to obtain letters of so recent a date, 
and to learn that the family were all in health. For 
this blessing give I thanks. 

"At twelve o'clock, by a previous engagement, I 

was to call at Mr. G 's for Cousin B. Smith 

to accompany me to the bridge at Quincy-port, be- 
ing the first day of passing it. The day was pleas- 
ant; the scenery delightful. Passed both bridges, 
and entered Hingham. Returned before three 
o'clock. Dined, and, 

"At five, went to Mr. T. G— — 's, with your 

grandfather; the third visit he has made with us 

in the week; and let me whisper to you he played 

at whist with Mr. J. G , who was as ready and 

ijohn Quincy Adams was at this time Ambassador at St. 
Petersburg. 



AFTERNOON AND EVENING 273 

accurate as though he had both eyes to see with. 
Returned. 

"At nine, sat down and wrote a letter. 

"At eleven, retired to bed. We do not so every 
week. I tell it you as one of the marvels of the 
age. By all this, you will learn that grandmother 
has got rid of her croaking, and that grandfather 
is in good health, and that both of us are as tran- 
quil as that bald old fellow, called Time, will let 
us be. 

"And here I was interrupted in my narrative. 

"I re-assume my pen upon the 226. of Novem- 
ber, being this day sixty-eight years old. How 
many reflections occur to me upon this anniver- 
sary! 

"What have I done for myself or others in this 
long period of my sojourn, that I can look back 
upon with pleasure, or reflect upon with approba- 
tion? Many, very many follies and errors of judg- 
ment and conduct rise up before me, and ask for- 
giveness of that Being, who seeth into the secret 
recesses of the heart, and from whom nothing is 
hidden. I think I may with truth say, that in no 
period of my life have the vile passions had control 
over me. I bear no enmity to any human being; 
but, alas! as Mrs. Placid said to her friend, by 



:274 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

which of thy good works wouldst thou be willing to 
"be judged? I do not believe, with some divines, 
that all our good works are but as filthy rags; the 
example which our great Master has set before us, 
of purity, benevolence, obedience, submission and 
humility, are virtues which, if faithfully practised, 
will find their reward; or why has he pronounced 
so many benedictions upon them in his sermon on 
the mount ? I would ask with the poet, 

Is not virtue in mankind 
The nutriment that feeds the mind. 
Then who, with reason, can pretend 
That all effects of virtue end? 

I am one of those who are willing to rejoice al- 
ways. My disposition and habits are not of the 
,gloomy kind. I believe that *to enjoy is to obey.' 

Yet not to Earth's contracted span, 

Thy goodness let me bound; 
Or think thee Lord alone of man, 

Whilst thousand worlds are round." 

This period of quiet retirement did not lack its 
thrills of interest, public and private. Europe 
was in the throes of the Napoleonic Wars, a con- 
flict surpassed in bitterness only by that of our 
own day. In due time came our own War of 1812, 
and for three years this country was in a continual 



AFTERNOON AND EVENING 2-]$^ 

state of alarm. On December 30th, 18 12, Mrs. 
Adams writes to her friend of many years, Mrs.. 
Mercy Warren : 

"So long as we are inhabitants of this earth and 
possess any of our faculties, we cannot be indiffer- 
ent to the state of our country, our posterity and 
our friends. Personally we have arrived so near 
the close of the drama that we can experience but 
few of the evils which await the rising generation. 
We have passed through one revolution and have 
happily arrived at the goal, but the ambition, in- 
justice and plunder of foreign powers have again 
involved us in war, the termination of which is not 
given us to see. 

"If we have not *the gorgeous palaces of the 
cloud-capp'd towers* of Moscow to be levelled with 
the dust, nor a million of victims to sacrifice upon, 
the altar of ambition, we have our firesides, our 
comfortable habitations, our cities, our churches and 
our country to defend, our rights, privileges and in- 
dependence to preserve. And for these are we not 
justly contending? Thus it appears to me; yet I 
hear from our pulpits and read from our presses 
that it is an unjust, a wicked, a ruinous and un- 
necessary war. If I give an opinion with respect 
to the conduct of our native State, I cannot do 



276 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

it with approbation. She has had much to com- 
plain of as it respected a refusal of naval protec- 
tion, yet that cannot justify her in paralyzing the 
arm of government when raised for her defence 
and that of the nation. A house divided against it- 
self — ^and upon that foundation do our enemies 
build their hopes of subduing us. May it prove a 
sandy one to them. 

**You once asked what does Mr. Adams think of 
Napoleon? The reply was, I think, that after hav- 
ing been the scourge of nations, he should himself 
be destroyed. We have seen him run an astonishing 
career. Is not his measure full? Like Charles the 
XII of Sweden, he may find in Alexander another 
Peter. Much, my friends, might we moralize upon 
these great events, but we know but in part and 
we see but in part. The longer I live, the more 
wrapt in clouds and darkness does the future appear 
to me." 

British cruisers patrolled the New England coast, 
and could frequently be seen from the upper win- 
dows of the Quincy houses. If Mrs. Adams had 
climbed Penn's Hill on June ist, 1813, she could 
have watched the naval duel between the Chesa- 
peake and the Shannon, as in 1776 she had watched 
the burning of Charlestown. 



AFTERNOON AND EVENING <iy7 

A few months later, the neighborhood of Bos- 
ton assumed once more the military aspect of forty 
years before. *'Troops from Berkshire were quar- 
tered in Dorchester, at Neponset Bridge, generally 
considered the last outpost toward the enemy, who, 
it was thought, would land on Mr. Quincy's farm. 
One Sunday, a report came that the British had 
actually landed at Scituate, and were marching up 
to Boston. The drums beat to arms ; and the elders, 
who remembered the Revolution, increased the trepi- 
dation of their juniors by anecdotes of devastation. 
These apprehensions were much exaggerated." ^ 

In the midst of these alarms, John and Abigail 
Adams celebrated their golden wedding. "Yester- 
day," she writes to a granddaughter on the 26th 
of October, 18 14, "yesterday completes half a cen- 
tury since I entered the married state, then just 
your age. I have great cause of thankfulness, that 
I have lived so long and enjoyed so large a portion 
of happiness as has been my lot. The greatest 
source of unhappiness I have known in that period 
has arisen from the long and cruel separations 
which I was called, in a time of war and with a 
young family around me, to submit to." 

In the same house, their son, John Quincy Adams, 

* "Memoir of S. E. M. Quincy." 



278 ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

and their grandson Charles Francis Adams, were in 
time to celebrate their golden weddings ; a notable 
series of festivals. 

A member of the Adams family tells me the Sec- 
ond President "has the reputation in the family of 
being very high tempered, and it is said that when 
he wrote letters which his wife thought unwise, she 
would hold them back and give them to him a week 
or so later, saying she thought perhaps he would 
prefer to change them! The singular thing was 
that he apparently never resented the tampering 
with his correspondence." 

There can be no stronger proof than this of the 
oneness of this remarkable couple. President John 
may have been high tempered, but I fancy there 
are few men of today who would receive with meek- 
ness such action on the part of their wives. 

The winter of 1814-15 opened gloomily enough. 
There seemed no immediate prospect of peace. Ac- 
cordingly, when, on the 14th day of February, 181 5, 
the bells began to ring, people merely said, "Fire !" 
and looked out of window for the smoke. There 
was no smoke till the bonfires sprang up at night. 
More and more joyfully the bells pealed, till all 
knew that the war was over, that peace had been 
declared. Boston and Quincy and all the other 



AFTERNOON AND EVENING :?79 

neighboring towns went mad with joy. *'The whole 
population were abroad, all classes congratulating 
each other on the happy tidings. Almost every 
house displayed a flag. Drums beat ; cannon fired ; 
the military were in motion. Sailors in large sleds, 
each drawn by fifteen horses, — the word 'Peace' 
in capitals on the hat of the foremost man, — greeted 
everyone with loud huzzas. The joy and exulta- 
tion were in proportion to the previous fear and 
despondency. It was a day never to be forgotten.'' ^ 

There w^ere to be no more alarms for Abigail 
Adams; no more thunder of cannon or marching 
of troops : the rest of her life was peace. She had 
the joy of welcoming her eldest son, after his for- 
eign service of eight long years, and of seeing him 
appointed Secretary of State. This, her grandson 
thinks, was the crowning mercy of her life. A few 
years more, and she might have seen him exalted to 
the loftier office which his father had held ; but this 
w^as not to be. In October, 1818, she was stricken 
with typhus fever; and on the 28th day of that 
month, she died. 

In closing the record of such a life as this, one 
longs for some perfect tribute which may fitly sum 

•"Memoir of S. E. M. Quincy." 



28o ABIGAIL ADAMS AND HER TIMES 

it up. I find this tribute, in the words of Josiah 
Quincy : "Clear and shedding blessings to the last, 
her sun sank below the horizon, beaming with the 
same mild strength and pure radiance which distin- 
guished its meridian." 

Another beautiful word was that of President 
Kirkland of Harvard University, spoken at Mrs. 
Adams' funeral: 

*'Ye seek to mourn, bereaved friends, as becomes 
Christians, in a manner worthy of the person you 
lament. You do, then, bless the Giver of life, that 
the course of your endeared and honored friend was 
so long and so bright ; that she entered so fully into 
the spirit of these injunctions which we have ex- 
plained, and was a minister of blessings to all within 
her influence. You are soothed to reflect that she 
was sensible of the many tokens of divine goodness 
which marked her lot; that she received the good of 
her existence with a cheerful and grateful heart; 
that, when called to weep, she bore adversity with 
an equal mind ; that she used the world as not abus- 
ing it to excess, improving well her time, talents, 
and opportunities, and, though desired longer in this 
world, was fitted for a better happiness than this 
world can give." 

John Adams survived his dearest friend by eight 



AFTERNOON AND EVENING 281 

years, preserving his faculties to the last, clear- 
minded and vehement as on the day when he signed 
the Declaration of Independence. At noon on the 
fiftieth anniversary of the ''day of deliverance," 
amid the "pomp and parade," the ''shows, games, 
sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations," 
which he had bespoken for it, his valiant spirit 
passed from earth. His last words were, "Thomas 
JefTerson still survives!" This was not the case. 
His ancient colleague, at one time his bitter oppon- 
ent, but of late years once more his affectionate 
friend, had died an hour before. 

Husband and wife lie side by side, under the por- 
tico of the First Church of Quincy, a building given 
by Mr. Adams to his beloved town. On the walls 
of that church are inscribed their epitaphs, which 
may most fitly close this simple record. 

LIBERTATEM, AMICI.TIAM, FIDEM, RETINEBIS 

D. O. M. 



BENEATH THESE WALLS 
ARE DEPOSITED THE MORTAL REMAINS OF 



JOHN ADAMS. 

SON OF JOHN AND SUZANNA (BOYLSTON) ADAMS. 

SECOND PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES; 

BORN II OCTOBER, 1735. 



ON THE FOURTH OF JULY. 1776, 

HE PLEDGED HIS LIFE, FORTUNE, AND SACRED HONOR 

TO THE 



INDEPENDENCE OF HIS COUNTRY. 



ON THE THIRD OF SEPTEMBER, 1783, 

HE AFFIXED HIS SEAL TO THE DEFINITIVE TREATY WITH 

GREAT BRITAIN, 

WHICH ACKNOWLEDGED THAT INDEPENDENCE, 

AND CONSUMMATED THE REDEMPTION OF HIS PLEDGE. 

ON THE FOURTH OF JULY, 1826, 

HE WAS SUMMONED 

TO THE INDEPENDENCE OF IMMORTALITY, 

AND TO THE 



JUDGMENT OF HIS GOD. 



THIS HOUSE WILL BEAR WITNESS TO HIS PIETY; 

THIS TOWN, HIS BIRTHPLACE, TO HIS MUNIFICENCE; 

HISTORY TO HIS PATRIOTISM; 

POSTERITY TO THE DEPTH AND COMPASS OF HIS MIND. 



AT HIS SIDE 
SLEEPS. TILL THE TRUMP SHALL SOUND, 



ABIGAIL, 



HIS BELOVED AND ONLY WIFE, 

DAUGHTER OF WILLIAM AND ELIZABETH (QUINCY) SMITH; 

IN EVERY RELATION OF LIFE A PATTERN 

OF FILIAL, CONJUGAL, MATERNAL, AND SOCIAL VIRTUE. 

BORN NOVEMBER ^^' 1744, 

DECEASED 28 OCTOBER, 1818, 

AGED 74. 

283 



mnt ^7l94g 



MARRIED 25 OCTOBER. 1764. 

DURING AN UNION OF MORE THAN HALF A CENTURY 

THEY SURVIVED, IN HARMONY OF SENTIMENT, PRINCIPLE, 

AND AFFECTION, 

THE TEMPESTS OF CIVIL COMMOTION; 

MEETING UNDAUNTED AND SURMOUNTING 

THE TERRORS AND TRIALS OF THAT REVOLUTION. 

WHICH SIlCURED THE FREEDOM OF THEIR COUNTRY; 

IMPROVED THE CONDITION OF THEIR TIMES; 

AND BRIGHTENED THE PROSPECTS OF FUTURITY 

TO THE RACE OF MAN UPON EARTH. 



PILGRIM. 

FROM LIVES THUS SPENT THY EARTHLY DUTIES LEARN; 
FROM FANCY'S DREAMS TO ACTIVE VIRTUE TURN: 
LET FREEDOM, FRIENDSHIP, FAITH, THY SOUL ENGAGE, 
AND SERVE, LIKE THEM, THY COUNTRY AND THY AGE. 



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